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THE STORY OF 



BY 

ft 

MAGNUS M E RR I W E ATH ER.^ 




“author of royal LOWRIE ; or, a GENERAI. ^fISUNUERSTANl)ING.” 


II,H:STRATRT5 BY 


WALTER SniRLAW. 






> } 

•> •> > 

3 ^ > 


" 9F-V/, 


BOSTON; 

D. LOTHROP & COMPANY. 

# 

FKAJfKLIN STKFET. 


/Tb/ ' 




/ 



Copyright, jSSi, 

By D. Lothrop & Company. 






• # 
• w • 








CONTENTS- 


Chapter. Page. 

I. — On board the Sound Steamer . . 9 

— Thomas Ruggles, Farmer . . *27 

3. — The beginning of the longest day in the 

Year 39 

4. — What was the fault with Black Doug- 

las 50 

5. — Ruggles gets a place . . .68 

6. — In which the Story does not get on . 85 

7. — On Mizpah . . . . ' . .94 

8. — The Fly-Leaf 116 

9. — In which the Heroine appears to greater 

disadvantage than ever . . .128 

10. — Wherein Truth is no less exciting than 

Fiction . . . . . . *143 

11. — Densie Drew . . . . . *156 

12. — Miss Drew unearths a mystery . . 172 

13. — The Witchery of Archery . . . 190 


V 


vi 


Contents. 


14. — A Chance Shot . . . . .210 

15. — Sheets and Pillow-cases . . . .227 

16. — What has become of Angus . . . 249 

17. — Circumstantial Evidence . . . . 267 

18. — By the light of the Moon . . . 287 

19. — In the West Passage .... 302 

20. — A Revelation 324 

21. — A Change of Scenes . . . *341 

22. — On board the Curlew . ... 362 

23. — Densie’s Tactics .... 378 

,24. — Victor or Vanquished . . . . 389 




THE STORY OF HONOR 
BRIGHT. 


CHAPTER I. 


ON BOARD THE SOUND STEAMER. 

HIS story is not meant to be a sensational one, 



-L although appearances may now and then be 
against it. Its hero, in his fifteenth year, did what many 
another boy with a will and temper of his own 
has done — he got into a towering rage with his 
guardian, flung his Harkness’ First Greek Book 
into the farthest corner of the room, went up-stairs 
and put on two pairs of trowsers and a base-ball 
shirt, and, coming down again by and by much more 
quietly than he had gone up, let himself out at the 
side-door and literally ‘‘ran away to sea.” He was 
six months on board ship and upwards of two years 
in Colorado and New Mexico, during which time he 
was knocked about a good deal. But there was the 


9 



The Story of Honor Brigh^, 


making of a man in 
him ; and when at last 
he found his way East 
again, although not 
I quite so cultivated 
perhaps as he 
light have been 


IN A TOWERING RAGE. 




On Board the Sound Steamer. 


II 


had he stayed at home, he had developed, body and 
mind, in a hundred ways that he will be more and 
more thankful for every year that he lives. He is in 
the Freshman class of Harvard College at this 
moment, while other lads of his age are Seniors ; 
but I am quite sure he has no feeling that he 
has lost any time anywhere. His races are yet • to 
be pulled and his lectures yet to be crammed, it 
is true, but he will pull a better oar and strike a 
higher mark for those two years and a half of “ rough- 
ing it.” Meanwhile, during his absence, the people 
and things he had run away from had not stood still. 
He found them and his relations to them changed 
altogether. Whereupon he said and did just what, it 
seems to me, just such a person might naturally say 
and do under just such circumstances. And that is 
what all this story is about. It is the writer’s purpose 
simply to tell that story in an honest and straight- 
forward fashion ; and he hopes that the young people 
who read it will find in it something that will help 
and nothing that will hurt them. So much by way 
of preface. 

A coarse, ready-made suit of clothes, with a flannel 
shirt visible at the neck, a worn black hat with opin- 
ions of its own as to shape, stout shoes of no mean 


12 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


dimensions and not altogether clean, hands that evi- 
dently had worked hard at something, a ^ace tanned 
far deeper than a month’s yachting trip or a vacation 
tramp to the mountains could have tanned it, hair 
that, however fine and curly it might be, did need 
cutting most dreadfully, a certain air of freshness 
which might have been mistaken for verdancy but 
was not — let the reader put all these together in his 
mind’s eye and attach them to a young fellow seven- 
teen or eighteen years of age, and he has the person 
who is to figure most extensively in the following 
chapters. 

The picture is not, it must be confessed, all that a 
fastidious taste could desire. This is quite clear 
from the manner of a pretty and stylish young lady 
who had just come out upon the forward deck, and 
who found herself, all at once, close beside the person 
thus described. Her glance rested upon him rather 
coldly for a single instant, and then, quite decidedly, 
she turned away and walked farther down the rail, 
taking with her the only^seat that seemed to be still 
unsecured. It was a time of cheap travel and crowded 
boats, and a great many people had already come out 
upon the deck. 

“ Angus,” she called to a boy in knee-breeches and 
a man-o’-war’s-man’s cap, who had come out with her 


On Board Jhe Sound Steamer. 


13 


from the saloon. “Come and sit down, do. You 
must be tired to death. Here, Idl give you half my 
stool.” • 

The last words were uttered a little wrathfully, and 
jDerhaps she was not unwilling they should be over- 
heard by the common-looking person who was sitting 
there so comfortably in one chair with his feet upon 
another. 

The common-looking person did hear her. Indeed, 
what she now said had called his attention to her for 
the first time. He had been gazing absently across 
the dock to where the steamer of another line was 
also making ready for departure. He looked around, 
and then jumped up quickly and came forw'ard, 
bringing one of the chairs with him. 

“ I beg pardon ” — He took off ^ his hat a trifle awk-- 
wardly like a gentleman “ born not made,” and prof- 
fered* the chair. “Will you take this? I did not 
notice.” 

She took it coolly, thanking him* without deigning 
to look at him. And he was about to go back when 
something stopped him. 

“ Honor — Honor Bright ! Where in the world — 
Oh, here they are, Mrs. Murdoch ! ” 

The words or the voice or both, seemed to have 
an unusual effect upon the youth with the tanned 


14 


The Story of Hoiior Bright. 


face. He started as though he had been shot at, 
and, turning quickly, stood looking toward the new- 
comer with an air of the most complete astonishment. 
As for this latter person, he stepped forward at once, 
a faultlessly attired young gentleman with an effemi- 
nate air exactly in keeping with his voice. A fashion- 
ably dressed lady was close behind him. 

“ We thought you were going with us to find the 
state-rooms,” said this first person as he came up. 
“ We have been looking for you everywhere we could 
think of, and could not imagine where you had flown 
to. I told Mrs. Murdoch — He was going on 
volubly, making a great many words apparently out 
of a very little matter, when the pretty and stylish 
young lady interrupted him, speaking in a lower voice, 
but with an energy, and intensity quite in contrast 
with his languid drawl. ^ 

“ I do wish, Livingston Mauran, that you wouldn’t 
go all over the boat calling out my name as though I 
were a lost child and you the town crier. Never 
mind ! Don’t apologize — ” She stopped his attempted 
reply with an imperious gesture, as though it were 
much easier to imagine what he had to say than to 
listen to it. “Now please go and get a chair for 
Caroline. Quick, before they are all gone.” 

Young Mauran looked helplessly about, quite at a 








*•* ^ ‘1 * <» ; V f 

fT^', ,-■ 


•** •^‘^: 





On Board the Sound Steamer^ 


17 


loss to know where the extra chair was to be obtained ; 
but the person in the ready-made clothes now came 
for^vard once more, offering the other chair. The 
young lady, however, had had enough of this. 

“ Thank you,” she said politely, but as freezingly 
as ever. “We could not think of taking your other 
seat. We have a stool and a chair already. Living- 
stone, you and Angus must look out for yourselves.” 

“ The chair will be much better than the stool,’* 
said the stranger simply, not heeding her words or 
manner at all. “ And I do not care for it.” And he 
put on his hat again and walked away aft before an- 
other word could be said. 

Then the bell rang once more, and a pompous 
negro came around with a warning cry of “ All ashore 
’t don’t go ; ” and presently the boat pushed slowly out 
of the dock and turned with gradually increasing 
speed southward. It was a pleasant June evening, and, 
although the day had been very hot, a cool breeze was 
now coming in from seaward. The party that has 
thus been brought to the reader’s notice sat for a 
long time enjoying the sail down around the Battery, 
under the East River bridge, far up between the two 
busy cities, past Blackwell’s Island and on toward 
the Hell Gate. And to any one sitting near them, 
with nothing better to do, it would have been quite a 


i8 The Story of Honor Bright, 

natural thing to watch them more or less closely — as 
we all do watch groups of strangers who are our 
fellow-travellers — and listen at times to what they 
were saying. 

An experienced observer would at once have written 
them down as New England people rather than New 
Yorkers — people of refinement and probably cf 
wealth and position. It was the youth so emphati- 
cally addressed upon his first appearance as Living- 
ston Mauran, who, more than any other in the 
group, called attention to himself. He talked al- 
most constantly, after the manner of those whose 
thoughts, never very profound perhaps, seem neces- 
sarily to run to words — and with a drawling though 
not at all disagreeable tone, and with an airy indif- 
ference to the strangers about him that was amusing. 
His face was fresh and good-looking, there was the 
faint promise of a blonde moustache on his upper 
lip, and he wore a sacque suit of a somewhat loud 
plaid, and a cherry-colored ribbon on his straw hat. 
As one watched him sitting there with his arm on the 
rail, twirling a lady’s parasol and rattling bn to his two 
companions about Point Judith, and the furniture of a 
hotel where they had dined, and the propriety of lining 
parasols with old gold, and the newest fashion for hold- 
ing one’s fan, and a thousand other things of varying 


On Board the Sound Steamer. 


19 


importance, one set him down presently as a perfectly 
good-natured, rather light-headed young gentleman, 
fond of ladies’ society, and who had been well fed, well 
dressed, and well cared for all his life. Of course it 
was possible that one might find more than this in 
him, if one came to know him better. 

The two ladies appeared to be sisters, the one a 
married woman of the world, and the other a young 
girl who might have been sixteen and might have 
been eighteen years of age, and who (as came out 
from the conversation) had just “ finished ” at a Penn- 
sylvania boarding school. She was a brunette, 
bright and charming, but evidently quick-tempered 
and accustomed to having her own way. 

As for master Angus, son of one of these ladies 
and nephew of the other, he was about rather than 
of the group. He was a robust young American of 
Scotch descent, full of health and activity, one of 
those enterprising, well-looking, jauntily clothed 
children that one always notices and feels attracted 
to when travelling. He, as well as these others, will 
have more or less to do with the following story, and 
may very properly therefore, as well as they, be de- 
scribed at its outset. ’ 

Later in the evening, when the lamps were all 
lighted and everybody who could afford it had long 


20 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


since been down to supper, the young fellow first 
above mentioned — he of the ready-made suit of 
clothes — came in from the after-deck (it was growing 
too cool to sit outside) and began looking about to 
find a seat. This was no easy matter. The cabin 
already presented something of that interesting ap- 
pearance so familiar to travellers in the season of 
“limited tickets.” There were people sitting near 
the lamps and reading, and people sitting and talking 
together, and people walking up and dawn the sa- 
loons from one end of the boat to the other ; but the 
majority seemed already to have grown sleepy, and 
in the chairs all about and on the tops of the radia- 
tors and on the floor along the passage-ways and in 
comers, some with mattresses and many without, peo- 
ple were lying in all sorts of attitudes and trying to 
sleep. There were evidently a great many more pas- 
sengers on board than there were beds. 

A gentleman who had been reading his paper near 
one of the tables arose and left his place just as the 
young fellow who had twice before this so readily 
given up his own seat was passing, and the latter se- 
cured now the empty chair just as two other persons 
as needy as himself had suddenly started in its direction. 

“ I’m mighty glad you got it ! ” a voice said close 
beside him. 


On Board the Sound Steamer. 


21 


He turned and saw the boy in the sailor cap. He 
had on now in addition a boy’s ulster that came al- 
most to his heels. 

“ Are you ? ” was the response to this remark. 

“Yes — ’cause you gave up your seat to aunt 
Honor, before supper. She said ’twas uncommon 
polite in a person of your class. What class do you 
belong to .? She b’longs to the graduating class. 
She’s just got through at Bethle’um. She’s going 
to teach me this summer.” 

“ Is she ? ” said the other, smiling and becoming 
interested in his new acquaintance. “Well, I can’t 
be quite so polite to you, you know, as you’re not a 
lady. But I’ll give you half of my seat.” And he 
made room. 

The boy shook his head a bit scornfully. 

“ No,” said he. “ I 3on’t want to sit down. I’ve 
got a state-room.” 

“ Is that so ? ” 

“ Yes. Me and Livy have one together. Living- 
ston is his real name. Mamma says it is a very ar- 
istocratic name, but / think it is a very funny one, 
don’t you ? What’s your name } ” 

“ A^or M” said the young man. 

The boy looked puzzled. He evidently had not 
gone even so far in the Church Catechism. 


22 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


“ No — what is it ? ” he repeated coaxingly. “ Tell 
me, honor bright.” 

“ Well, Honor Bright, ’ said the other, lightly. 

The boy pouted, feeling that he was being teased. 

“ Why won’t you tell me ? ” persisted he. “ Are you 
ashamed of your name ? I ain’t ashamed of mine. 
It’s Angus Murdoch. My grandfather was a Scotch- 
man, and Murdoch is a swell name, too. Aunt Honor 
ain’t ashamed of hers either. Though, wasn’t she 
mad when Livy bawled it out so ! She makes him 
step round like she does everybody else.” 

The young fellow was silent for a moment; and 
though master Angus went on talking of something 
else, he took n6 notice of him, apparently quite busy 
enough with his own thoughts. 

“ Is your aunt’s name Hoijpr Bright ? ” he asked at 
length, though it was hardly like a question. 

“ Honor Bright,” echoed the boy. “ Of course it is. 
Didn’t you hear Livy call her ? ” 

“ It is queer,” murmured the young fellow thought- 
fully. 

“That’s what everybody says,” responded Angus. 
“ It wasn’t her name always, — that is, the Honor 
part of it. She changed it a while ago. I didn’t 
know girls ever changed their names except when 
they got married. Do they ? ” 


On Board the Sound Steamer. 


23 


I never knew of a case.” 

“ Aunt Honor ain’t married, anyway,” continued 
Angus positively. And then, dropping his voice, 
“ Say, do you s’pose she’d marry Livy ? ” 

“ Really,” was the amused response, “ I am hardly 
in a position to give an opinion in the matter.” 

“ He’s a regular girl-boy, anyway,” continued Angus. 
“ Why, he worked my mother a sofa pillow last Christ- 
mas, and he can’t ride a bicycle to save his neck. 
He’s dead smashed on aunt Honor, anyway. You 
ought t’have seen him last winter when she was home. 
And he needn’t tell me he just happened to meet us 
in New York. He came on from Random on pur- 
pose.” 

“ Do you live at Random ? ” inquired his com- 
panion. 

“Yes; and our place is called Hollownook. It’s 
the big house all covered up with trees — on the 
right. No, it’s on the left. Do you remember ? ” 

“No, I never was in Random. You mean Random 
in Massachusetts, not far from Boston ? ” 

“Yes. Do you live in Massachusetts?” 

“Yes — that is, I did once. I haven’t been there 
for two years and a half.” 

“ Where have you been all that time ? 

“ Out West, most of it.” 


24 


The Story of Honor Bright, 


“ What have you been doing ? 

“ Oh, all sorts of things. The last thing I did was 
to work on a cattle-ranch.” 

“That’s what aunt Honor said,” declared Angus. 

“ What ! ” exclaimed his companion. 

“ She said you were a farmer, she guessed, by the 
looks of your hands and — ” 

Here this highly interesting conversation was 
abruptly terminated by the speaking of master 
Angus’ name somewhat sharply close behind them. 

Raising his eyes the young fellow beheld “ aunt 
Honor” herself, who seemed very angry and dis- 
turbed for some reason or other. 

“Angus,” she repeated, “your mother wants 
you.” 

“ Oh, no, she don’t,” said Angus coolly. “ She only 
wants to know where I am. Tell her I’m here — talk- 
ing. Say, aunt Honor, he is a farmer.” 

“You do altogether too much talking,” said aunt 
Honor, curtly. “ Come ! ” and she put out her hand 
decidedly. 

“ All right,” agreed Angus. And then, in a lower 
tone, to his new friend, “ I have to mind her. She 
ain’t so bad always, though. She’s jolly when you’re 
all alone with her.” 

After they had gone the young fellow sat for some 


On Board the Sound Steamer. 


25 


time, apparently thinking hard to himself upon some 
subject or other. 

By and by he got up and stretched himself rather 
inelegantly, like a person about to retire. He had no 
state-room, and he had not cared to take his berth 
down-stairs. But he was used to shifting for himself, 
and did not anticipate any trouble in getting his 
night’s rest. He went and got his bag (a huge black 
one not at all of the sort its owner would worry about) 
out from under a cabin chair where he had deposited 
it when he first came on board ; and then, as he 
walked along, noticing a dark passage-way leading 
down between some state-rooms to other outside ones, 
he entered it, threw his bag down in the corner, and 
with his head upon it was, a few minutes later, fast 
asleep. 

He was aroused before very long by somebody 
stepping upon his foot, and then a drawling voice say- 
ing : 

“ I beg your pardon. I really couldn’t see. And 
besides, a fellow must tread somewhere, you know.” 

“ He needn’t tread everywhere,” grumbled the 
sleeper, turning over. And then Mr. Livingston 
Mauran disappeared within his state-room. 

When he came out in the morning, the passage-way 
was clear. The young man and his bag had gone off 


26 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


to Boston hours before on the train “ leaving immedi- 
ately upon the arrival of the boat.” 


CHAPTER II. 


THOMAS RUGGLES, FARMER. 

The train that our hero had turned out very early 
to take got into Boston the next morning at seven 
o’clock. Whether that was its usual time of arriving, 
he did not know. He got off and walked up through 
the gates like one who does not quite know where he 
wants to go next. The sight of the depot restaurant, 
however, furnished him once more with an immediate 
object in life, and he went in and ordered breakfast. 

When he came to pay for his beefsteak and pot of 

» 

coffee, he found that it left him with barely half a 
dollar in his possession. He walked out of the res- 
taurant jingling his change and reflecting upon this 
fact. It evidently did not seem a serious matter to 
him, however, for he bought a morning paper at the 
news-stand, and then, after a somewhat unsatisfactory 


27 


2S The Story of Honor Bright. 

toilet in the wash-room, he yielded to the touching 
entreaties of the negro who was there so far as to 
submit his shoes to the manipulations of that artist, 
for which he paid ten cents more. He went out into 
the main room again feeling like a new man. ' 

Half-way out of the depot, he suddenly halted and 
looked at his bag. 

“ Well, old friend,” he said, “ you and I must con- 
sent to be separated, for a few hours at least. I can’t 
lug you all over town. It’s against the law to carry 
one’s own baggage in Boston.” 

So he went and left the bag in the check-room, 
and then, in the best of spirits, passed out into the 
street. 

After going a few rods he turned to the left and 
entered the Public Garden. 

“ It’s only eight o’clock yet,” he said, still talking 
to himself — a habit one is apt to get into if one trav- 
els much alone and does not readily fall into conver- 
sation with strangers. “And Mr. Lambert never 
used to get to the office before ten. I have whole 
mines of time. I’ll prospect round a bit.’^ 

He walked about the Garden awhile, enjoying the 
fresh June morning (there is one month in the year, 
at least, when the climate of Boston is the finest in 
the world), watching, the swans in the pond and never 


Thomas Tugg/es, Farmer. 


29 


failing to observe closely the people whom he met. 
These were mostly of his own sex, young men and 
old, passing through the Garden on their way down 
town. Not a few of them were of his own age too, 
modish, self-possessed young fellows every one, with 
hair cut close and clothes and collars of a pattern abso- 
lutely perfect, representatives of a generation already 
of no little importance in this brisk American life of 
ours, and to whom its entire conduct must ere long 
be handed over. Our hero, glancing from these to 
himself, felt that he was “ looking down ” oh himself 
at the moment in more senses than one. 

“ I declare ! ” said he, “ I do look rather seedy. 
No wonder she took me for a farmer. However, 
that’s easily remedied. I shall be as big a swell as 
any of ’em a week from now. Random ? Let’s 
see. That’s about twenty miles out and five miles off 
the Boston and Albany road. It was funny about 
at girl’s name though. We never- had any relations 
Random that I know of. I’ll ask old Lambert. He’ll 
)w. Meanwhile, I must go and get my hair cut. 
looks like a Chinaman’s, behind, I haven’t a doubt.” 
He found a barber’s shop where he got his hair cut 
for twenty-five cents. This disposed of a half-hour 
more, and the rest of the time until ten o’clock was 
spent in walking about on and near Washington 


30 


The Story of Honor Bright 




street. At just ten by the Old South he found him- 
self near Court street; and, remembering well the 
way, he turned at once toward the law office of Lam- 
bert and Davison. 

He went up the dark stairway and opened the 
door. There was no one in the outer office just then, 
and he stood waiting, hat in hand. How familiar the 
room looked with its tall stove that never was taken 
down even in summer, and its old desks, and its 
shelves of yellow books with their red labels ! Noth- 
ing seemed to be changed. He looked about with a 
sort of breathless awe, almost ready to believe that 
the months that had gone by since he last came to 
this place were all a dream, and that now he had but 
to turn his head to see beside him a stern, palsied old 
man, his great-uncle, who, because their names were 
the same, had taken him to his house, and, in his own 
way, been very kind to him, and who had brought 
him here one day to hear a will read that left to him 
a large property. At that moment he seemed actually 
to hear once more the old man’s feeble accents, and 
to see the look upon his face as he laid down his pen 
and looked up at his young heir. “ It won’t be long 
before it is yours, my boy. I wanted the money and 
the name to go together. All I ask of you is that 
you take good care of them both.” Poor old uncle 1 


Thomas Ruggles, Farmer. 


31 


And only three weeks after that he had parted from 
him in anger and gone his own careless way, and 
never sent back any tidings of himself since. Ah ! 
if the old man were only there beside him now, how 
gladly would the boy have knelt at his feet and 
begged his forgiveness. 

All at once, a man came out from the inner room, 
one comparatively young, and whom our hero did not 
remember ever to have seen. 

“ Is Mr. Lambert in ? ” the lad inquired. 

“Mr. Lambert is out of town. He is -gone on a 
western trip, and may be away two months.” 

The visitor’s face fell. “ And Mr. Davison ? ” he 
asked. 

“ I am Mr. Davison.” 

The young fellow looked surprised. “ But you are 
not the Mr. Davison who was here three years ago ? ” 

“ Oh, no. That was my father. He is not living. 
1 hold his place in the firm.” 

The visitor looked puzzled and disappointed. He 
began to realize all at once that one does not go away 
for three years and come back to find things as he 
left them. 

“ Did you want to see Mr. Lambert especially ? ” 
asked Mr. Davison, after a moment’s waiting. 

“ I don’t know. Perhaps you can tell me. I want 


32 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


to know about Mr. Honor Bright, whose business 
your firm used to see to. He is not . alive, I sup- 
pose ? ” 

“ Oh, no. He died more than two years ago.” 

The lad’s face showed no particular emotion at this, 
and yet he was shocked. He had felt sure his uncle 
must be dead, but he had never positively known it 
until this moment. 

“ Can you tell me about his property — what became 
of it?” 

“ Oh, yes. We have the care of it still. Sit down.” 
And the lawyer drew up some chairs. ' “ It was left 
to a young lady, a Miss Bright, of Random, in this 
State. She comes into full possession next Septem- 
ber, on her eighteenth birthday.” 

The visitor had turned to the table while this was 
being said, and was nervously thumbing some papers 
that were there. Here was news that he had not ex:- 
pected, and he did not like the lawyer to see how 
much he was startled by it. 

“Were there — were there two wills?” he was 
presently able to inquire, though he did not look up. 

“ No ; there was only a codicil to the first. There 
was a boy, named after Mr. Bright, a grand-nephew, 
who was to have had the property. But he ran away 
frr-pi heme and went to sea, and the ship he sailed 


Thomas Tugg/es, Farmer. 


33 


in was lost off Cape Horn with all on board. Mr. 
Bright died before that, however; but after the boy 
went to sea, he added the codicil to the effect that if 
anything happened to his nephew, the property was 
to go to a grand-niece, this Miss Bright, on condition 
that she should change her first name to Honor. 
That name was always his hobby, and after the boy 
w'ent off, it worried him to think that somebody with 
some other name might be his heir. So he made the 
condition. The girl would have been one heir, any- 
way ; and she didn’t mind the change of name. Of 
course as soon as it was certain that the Syren was 
lost, we became her guardians, and she has had what, 
she wanted of the income of the property ever since. 
As I say, she will have it all next September.” 

The young fellow had been sitting there during 
this recital, rolling and unrolling his soft hat and 
looking down at the floor. It was all so strange and 
unexpected to him that he did not seem able quite to 
get it through his head. 

“ There was no doubt about — that the nephew was 
lost ? ” he asked at length. 

“ No,” was the answer. “ It was positively proved 
from the owner’s books that he sailed in the ship 
Syren of New York, and she with all hands was lost. 
That was nearly three years ago, too. At any rate 


34 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


the codicil distinctly says that if he doesn’t appear 
before Miss Bright’s eighteenth birthday, the property 
is to go to her finally and irrecoverably.” 

Just then a gentleman in great apparent haste en- 
tered the room, and Mr. Davison, excusing himself, 
went into the back office with this new-comer. Our 
hero got up and stood for a moment thinking over 
what he had heard. Presently he went over to where 
there hung upon the wall a map of “ Boston and Vi- 
cinity ” showing the whole country for twenty miles 
around. He studied it for some moments, taking out 
a pencil and making some notes from it. Finally he 
put on his hat and left the room. 

He went slowly down-stairs with his hands in his 
pockets muttering to himself. 

“So,” said he, “it seems the Syren didn’t go off 
Muthout me after all, and it wasn’t the Romney but she 
that I sailed in. And I was lost off the Horn. There 
is no doubt about that. It was proved. And a young 
lady with black eyes and a temper like a white squall 
has got my money and my name too. Well, then, 
who am I, anyway ? And where do I belong ? And 
where am I bound .? ” 

On the landing below there was a man sweeping. 
He looked up at the lad coming down-stairs with a 
good-natured grin. 


Thomas Ruggles^ Farmer, 


35 


“ Good mornin’, sorr,” said he, suspending opera- 
tions for a moment to make passage way. 

Our hero, looking up, returned the salutation and 
the smile involuntarily as he passed by. A few feet 
away he suddenly turned and went back. 

“ What is your name ? ” he asked the man. 

“ Thomas Ruggles, sorr,” said the sweeper, grinning 
again. 

“ Thomas Ruggles ? ” repeated his questioner. “It’s 
a very good name indeed — much better than none 
at all. Here ” — he put his hand into his pocket. 
“ There’s fourteen cents. It’s all I have in the world. 
I’ll give it to you if you’ll lend me your name for 
three months. What do you say ? ” 

Mr. Ruggles looked first at our hero and then at 
the money. He failed quite to understand the one, 
but the other was perfectly comprehensible, and he 
put out his hand for it. 

The young man dropped the coins into his open 
palm. 

“ And I’m much obliged into the bargain,” said he. 
“ I’ll return the name at the end of the time as good 
as I took it. You may rely upon that.” 

Then he turned and walked away, taking the direc- 
tion of the Common again. 

“Now, Thomas Ruggles, farmer,” he was saying 


36 The Story of Honor 'Bright. 

to himself, with a sudden return of spirits, “ you 
have a name and occupation, and may still consider 
yourself respectable. You had best take yourself 
into the farming districts as fast as your legs will 
carry you. Let me see — ” 

And he took the piece of paper from his pocket 
and fell to studying it as he went along. 





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CHAPTER III. 


THE BEGINNING OF THE LONGEST DAY IN THE YEAR. 



HE morning after she got back to Hollownook, 


A Honor Bright arose very early. They had 
come out from Boston quite late the day before, and 
she had chosen to stay indoors and keep quiet that 
night. It was one of Honor’s notions — she was a 
person with a great many notions of her own — al- 
ways to renew her acquaintance with home at early 
morning. She had been an early riser all her life, 
and the very pleasantest hours of that life, whenever 
she dreamily looked back upon it, seemed to her to 
have been the hours between sunrise and breakfast 


time. 


For a long while the girl busied herself about her 
room, unpacking her trunk, arranging drawers and 
closets, looking over desks and boxes which had not 
been disturbed since she went away almost a year ago. 


39 


40 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


and whose contents were quite fresh and interesting 
to her now. And then, by and by, having carefully 
made her bed and put her room in order just as she 
had been required to do at school, she went to the 
window and stood with her arms upon the broad 
stone sill, looking out. 

And one could hardly fancy a more pleasant picture 
than that upon which she looked, and of which, in- 
deed, she herself formed a part. The sun was hardly 
up above the trees yet, and the lawn before the 
house, with its long shadows and its well-kept paths 
and shrubbery, was fresh and cool with morning 
dew. The house itself was far back from the road. 
It was an old stone house, older than the country’s 
independence, and, if it had stood out barely by 
itself, would have appeared very old-fashioned and 
awkward with its low piazza and huge pillars along 
the front, and its narrow double windows like long 
slits in the walls ; but there were so many grand old 
trees crowding all about it to drop their shifting- 
shadows over it and hide it that its very homeliness 
became picturesque and attractive. Honor’s room 
was in the second story, beyond the piazza and at 
the corner. An elm tree reached -down one of its 
great arms directly over the tront window where she 
was. The limb had grown since she had stood there 


The Beginning of the Longest jDay in the Year, 4t 

last, as though it had missed her and tried to look at 
the window to see if she were there. She drew down 
the limb and laid a handful of its leaves along her 
face to feel their refreshing coolness. Then, with 
sudden thought, she went and brought her bird-cage, 
and again pulling down the limb, fastened the cage 
to it with a bit of ribbon. 

“There, Joli !" she said. “You shall come out 
here with the other birds and see if you can’t find 
your voice. You haven’t sung a note since I came 
home. What do you mean, sir ? Aren’t you glad to 
see me ? ” * 

Wijereupon the bird, awakened thus to a proper 
sense of its shortconiings, and catching the note of a 
robin chirping from a tree close by, suddenly opened 
its mouth and poured forth a flood of melody that 
was delicious, while the cage danced up and down 
suspended from the limb. 

Honor listened for a moment, and then, in her turn, 
also took up the note in a strain that, so far as words 
Were concerned, was quite as meaningless as the song 
of the robin or canary, but which, like theirs, was 
nevertheless expressive of abundant joy and freedom. 
Why should she not be as merry and joyful as the 
birds, she who was once more back among them at 
last with the same bright morning all about her and 


42 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


the same wealth of beautiful summer days all before ? 
There was perhaps at this moment no happier creat- 
ure in all the world than Honor Bright; and she 
felt it fully. 

Just then a child’s voice called out to her from be- 
low. It was Angus, who had heard her singing and 
came around the corner of the house. 

“ Is that you, aunt Honor ? ” cried he. “ I didn’t 
know you were up.” 

“Good-morning, Angus,” said Honor pointedly. 
Having decided to take charge of her nephew’s edu- 
cation, she thought it well to begin at once upon his 
manners. “The first thing to do when you meet 
people in the morning is to bid them good-morning.” 

So Angus obediently said good-morning, taking off 
his hat into the bargain. 

“ Yes,” Honor continued, “ I’ve been up a long 
while. This is the twenty-first of June, the longest 
day in the year, and I don’t want to waste a single 
minute of it. Lots of things might happen to me the 
longest day in the year, and I’m not going to miss 
any of them by lying in bed. Wait a moment and 
I’ll come down. I want to go all about the place be- 
fore breakfast.” 

An instant later Honor appeared at the front door, 
bareheaded and swinging her straw hat by the strings. 


The Beginning of the longest Day in the Year. 43 

The morning was already growing warm, but she 
looked refreshingly cool and pretty in her white dress 
with a knot of red ribbon in her hair. Honor always 
had a bit of red about her somewhere, though never 
more than a bit. Red was her color. 

“ I tell you what, aunt Honor ! ” uttered Angus, 
gazing at her in genuine admiration, “you look as 
nice as — as strawberry ice-cream.” 

“ Thank you,” said Honor. “ You will do, I guess. 
Come along.” 

They walked along together across the close-cut 
lawn, taking no pains at all to keep in the paths, for 
neither minded the dew. At the hedge. Honor 
stopped to shake hands with a grizzled old man in 
his shirt-sleeves who was trimming the evergreen with 
a pair of shears. This was Donald Campbell, the 
man-of-all-work at Hollownook, who had lived with 
Mr. Murdoch for years. He greeted the girl in a 
broad Scotch accent, and was evidently delighted t6 
see her back. Then Angus drew her impatiently 
along, first to the stables to see the new horse. Black 
Douglas, that his father had bought a week before up 
in Vermont ; then to the rabbit hutches which were 
Angus’ especial care and property ; and after that, 
down through the summer-house and back lawn to 
the “ woods,” an extensive array of pine trees that 


44 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


stretched away behind the house towards Random 
Pond, a large piece of water half a mile distant. 
There was an abundance of pine forests all about 
Random, which, combined with the fact that the 
village was quite high above the sea’s level, made the 
air thereabouts extremely bracing and healthy. Just 
back of the house there was a large hollow that, with 
its roof of green branches above and the ground be- 
neath covered with a thick carpet of pine needles, 
formed a most delightful retreat during the leafy sea- 
son. There was a hammock swung between two of 
the trees ; and there were rocks and rustic seats all 
around. Doubtless it was this hollow nook that had 
suggested a name for the estate itself. Hollownook 
had been purchased by Mr. Murdoch a dozen years 
before, shortly after his marriage to Miss Bright, 
Honor’s sister. The gentleman was a merchant of 
Boston, but had found it impossible to endure, the 
trying climate of that city, and had come to Random 
because of its exceptionally healthy air. He still 
kept his business in Boston, and went to town four or 
five days of every week. Honor had lived with the 
Murdochs ever since her sister’s marriage, and was 
regarded by Mr. Murdoch almost as his own child. 

Honor sat down in the hammock in half-conscious 
compliance with Angus’ earnest request, and per- 


The Beginfimg of the Longest Day in the Year. 45 

s 

mitted herself to be swung back and forth, she the 
while gazing with half-shut eyes up at the branches 
overhead, and thinking anew how delightful every- 
thing was about her, and how great reason she had to 
be thankful and happy. Her life had been full, so 
far back as she could remember, of good times ; but 
she knew to-day that there were times to come that 
would be better still. Life was beginning to have 
meanings for her, and she had felt herself of late 
growing daily into new capability of enjoyment. 
Heretofore she had taken all pleasures as a matter of 
course, enjoying them, as birds and children do, 
without thinking anything about it. But now — and 
this was the thought that came to her as she lay there 
in the hammock this morning — now she was begin- 
ning to enjoy her very enjoyment itself. A new 
pleasure had suddenly been added to all the other 
pleasures of life, this pleasure of sitting or lying per- 
fectly quiet and realizing fully how beautiful the 
whole world was, and how good a thing it was to be 
alive in it and to enjoy it. 

Angus however was never contented with following 
one occupation or remaining in one place long. He 
presently gave the hammock-strings a jerk and 
aroused Honor from her reverie. 

wish the breakfast-bell would ring,” said he. 


46 The Story of Honor Bright. 

“ I’m hungry. Tell you what let’s do. Let’s go up 
through the strawberry patch and get some straw- 
berries.” 

Honor readily assenting to this : they turned back 
again, going around by the strawberry beds, where 
they halted and began helping themselves to the fruit 
that already hung ripe from the vines in considerable 
quantities. 

“ What fine berries ! ” said Honor. “ Do you know 
what kind they are ? ” 

“ No,” answered Angus. “ Old Dumbell will tell 
you, though. He’s mighty proud of ’em, anyway.” 

“ Old who 1 ” demanded Honor. 

“ Old Campbell,” repeated Angus. “ I call him 
Old Dumbell. He would give me a good scolding if 
he caught me here. He told me to keep away from 
the berries.” 

“ That’s very disrespectful,” said Honor severely. 

“ Yes,” responded Angus innocently from down 
among the vines. “ That’s what I think. But Donald 
is very often disrespectful to me. I told the Gover- 
nor so, but he only laughed.” 

“ Told who so ? ” again cried Honor, too aston- 
ished to attend to her grammar. “ Angus Murdoch, 
don’t you ever let me hear you speak of your father 
in that way again ! ” 


The Beginning of the Longest Day in the Year. 47 

Livy calls his father Governor,” protested An- 
gus. 

“ Livy ought to know better.” 

“ Speak of angels and you’ll hear their wings,” 
said a new voice near by, and they looked up to see 
Livy himself daintily picking his way toward them 
between the wet plants. “ I declare,” he went on in 
his glib, drawling way, “ my feet will be soaking wet. 
Miss Honor, how do you pass dry-shod among these 
vines ? You must be under special protection, like 
the children of Israel.” 

“ Livingston,” began Honor at once, “ do you call 
your father Governor ? ” 

“ Good-morning, Livy,” interposed Angus. And 
then turning to Honor he observed with dignity, Aunt 
Honor, the first thing to do when you meet people in 
the morning is to bid them good-morning.” 

Livingston laughed, comprehending ; and Honor 
could not help smiling herself. 

“ I think we must all try and mend our manners,” 
said she. 

Livy carelessly assented, at the same time illustra- 
ting his own purpose of immediate reform by yawning 
and stretching himself. “ I don’t know what I am 
up so early for,” said he. “ I assure you it is not my 
habit.” 


48 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


“ Don’t apologize,” replied Honor. “No doubt it 
is a first offence.” 

At that instant the breakfast-bell was heard. 

“ Ah,” said Livy, “ I remember now what it was I 
got up for — to come over and invite myself to 
breakfast. Shall we go in?” The Maurans were 
next-door neighbors, and Livy was always perfectly 
at home at Hollownook. 

They started for the house, Angus running on in' 
advance. At the stable door they found Mr. Murdoch 
just getting into the buggy. He explained that he 
had had to take his breakfast before the rest so as to 
catch an early train. 

“Why don’t you take .Black Douglas?” asked 
Honor. “ He can go three miles to Potiphar’s one, 
I am sure.” Potiphar was the family horse, kept more 
especially for the ladies to drive. 

“Oh, but the Black is your horse,” answered Mr. 
Murdoch. “ I came across him the other day up in 
Brattleboro’; and as he seemed to be about what you 
said you wanted, I bought him. He is ‘ big, black, 
gentle, fast, spirited, and good for saddle as for 
carriage use.’ ” Honor clapped her hands in delight. 

“ Did you really get him for me ? ” she cried. “ I 
was looking at him a little while ago, and he exactly 
suits me. He is just perfect f"' 


The Beginning of the Longest Day in the Year. 49 

“ No, he isn’t,” said Mr. Murdoch, “ although I 
really think he would be but for one thing. I want 
you to try him before you accept him. He has one 
fault — I didn’t discover it myself until I got him 
home here — but if you can put up with that one. I’ll 
warrant him in every other respect.” 

There was an odd look about Mr. Murdoch’s 
mouth as he said this, and Honor felt sure he was 
joking. 

“ I don’t believe it,” cried she. “ I don’t believe 
he has a single fault.” 

“Very well,” said Mr. Murdoch smiling. “You 
and Livy take him out after breakfast and try him. 
He is perfectly safe, I assure you. Any child — 
even Livy — can drive him.” And with a laugh at 
Livingston, Mr. Murdoch took the reins from Donald 
and drove off. 


CHAPTER IV. 


WHAT WAS THE FAULT WITH BLACK DOUGLAS. 

A fter breakfast Honor was eager to start off at 
once for a ride ; but Donald was not yet back 
from the station, and Livy positively refused to officiate 
as hostler. 

“ Ed do anything in the world for you except that, 
Miss Honor,” he said ; “ I never could harness a horse 
right. And then it does scent one up so, and one’s 
hands get all covered with oil and black.” And the 
young man held up his white hands, and looked at 
them with an expression showing such extreme feeling 
on the subject, that Honor concluded to be amused 
rather than angry. 

“ Very well,” said she. “ We’ll wait for Donald, 
then. But you shan’t touch the reins the whole time. 
You shall just sit on the seat beside me and look 
immaculate. I wonder if the horse really has any 

50 


V/hat ivas the Fault with BlacJz Douglas. 51 

fault. If it’s anything serious, you won’t be much 
good. That’s certain ! ” 

Donald Campbell had some errands to do down at 
the “ stores,” and did not get back until after ten. 
Honor, waiting idly upon the piazza with Livingston, 
called to him as he came up the drive, asking him to 
put Black Douglas into the phaeton as soon as he 
could. The man nodded like one consenting. 
Donald always consented rather than obeyed when 
directed to do anything — that is, when he did not 
squarely refuse or disobey. He w'as national and 
notional, having all the good and bad qualities of the 
Scotch peasant. He was faithful and true, but opin- 
ionated and independent. Ordinarily, too, he was a 
man of few w^ords, and Master Angus’ nick-name for 
him was not without significance. 

Quite a while later Donald, with Angus on the 
seat beside him, drove around to the front door. 
Black Douglas, groomed now and in a bran-new 
harness, was indeed a sight to gladden the heart of 
his young mistress. His coat was black and shining 
as jet, and without a mark on it. He was large, 
strong, clean-limbed and graceful ; and he held his 
head high of his own accord, as though he were 
proud of himself, while his face, especially of course 
the eyes, had an almost humanly intelligent expres- 


52 


The Story of Honor Bright, 


sion. Honor was delighted with him, and declared 
she did not believe he had a- single fault, and that 
she knew he would go like the wind. 

“Oo, ay, me leddie,” muttered Donald. “Ye 
needna hae a doot o’ that. He’ll gang like the 
wind, gien he tek’s a notion. The wind bloweth 
whaur it leesteth, though.” 

“Come, Angus,” said Honor. “Jump down, 
please.” 

“ Ain’t I going ? ” whined Angus. 

“ No, there isn’t room for three. Livingston is 
going with me.” 

. And, finally made to understand that he must re- 
main behind, Angus with very ill grace alighted and 
stood sourly regarding them as they got in. 

“ I hope you’ll get run away with,” he observed 
frankly, as Honor took up tire reins. “ And if you 
do, Livy can’t hold him. He couldn’t hold a wheel- 
barrow.” 

“ If you talk in that way, sir. I’ll never take you 
with me,” said Honor sternly. 

“ I don’t care,” was the reply. “ And I’ll set the 
house on fire while you are gone. See if I don’t.” 

“Very well,” said Honor. “You’ll find some 
matches on the library shelf.” 

And then they drove away. 


PV/ia^ was the Fault with Black Douglas. 53 

Random, it must be understood, was quite a village, 
and with a great many reasons for thinking well of 
itself even though the reader has never heard of it be- 
fore. It was made up of what, as a whole, would be 
called a farming population, which was spread out 
over the hills and valleys for several miles around ; 
but the village itself — the Centre, as we say in the 
country — consisted of a considerable number of 
houses of varied age and appearance, almost all of 
them neat and comfortable, and some of them ex- 
tremely tasteful and sometimes even luxurious in their 
surroundings, scattered along at frequently enough 
recurring intervals on each side the shady village 
street. Indeed, Random was an ancient New Eng- 
land village with just enough of “ modern improve- 
ments ” to entitle it to the respect of the most citified. 
It was near enough to town for people to go in once 
in a while and post themselves as to “what was 
what,” and it was sufficiently removed from railroads 
and factories itself not to have ceased yet to be 
entirely fresh and charming. It had its full share 
of natural beauties, chief among them a large pond, 
and a picturesque range of hills which had been 
named as mountains. And there were a certain 
number of people of the outside world who, no- less 
than the villagers themselves, thought Random the 


54 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


most delightful place in the world, and came to dwell 
there every summer. All this that has been said of 
the village is not so much an attempt to describe it 
as to furnish a sketch which it may be left to the 
reader’s imagination to fill out. 

Honor Bright was known by everybody in Random 
— and thought a great deal of, too, for that matter 
and as now they drove down the village street, she was 
bowing and smiling constantly to right and left, and 
talking to her companion all the while of this person 
or that whom they met, or asking questions suggested 
by the sight of them : Did Mr. Littlefield expect any 
boarders this summer ? Had the Cutlers or the Weth- 
erells come out yet ? Were the Norcrosses back 
from Europe ? Was that tall young man with Edith 
Browning the new high-school teacher ? — and a hun- 
dred other similar questions. Random society was 
composed of .very nice people indeed, especially 
during the summer months, and Honor was truly 
anticipating a glorious summer. 

Black Douglas drove with a tight rein, which 
was just what Honor liked. If she wanted him to 
go faster she pulled up the reins and he quickened 
his pace, until presently he fairly flew along the 
hard, smooth road. And when she tired of that, 
she had but to speak to him to quiet him again. He 



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What was the Fault with Black Douglas. 57 

was a wonderful horse. What 'could Mr. Murdoch 
have meant by saying that he had a fault that would 
prevent their keeping him ? It must have been one 
of her brother’s jokes. Nothing in the world should 
induce her to part with Black Douglas. There was 
not a horse in America that could replace him. 

They rode out into the open country, over toward 
Mizpah and around the north side of Random Pond. 
There were ever so many places about Random that 
were old friends of Honor’s and associated in her 
mind with all sorts of pleasant memories. But she 
chose to ride past them all to-day and view them 
from a distance rather than to stop at any of them. 
She meant to visit each one of them later ; but Liv- 
ingston was not just the sort of person she cared to 
have with her at such times. There was a serious, 
dreamy sort of mood very common with Honor 
Bright, and when in such a mood she preferred her 
own society to almost anybody’s. She had as yet 
found nobody that could exactly sympathize with her 
at such times. 

It was nearly one o’clock when they turned back. 
The sun was hot, but a cool breeze was blowing, as 
there almost always is among the Random hills. 
They were over on the old Boston turnpike now and 
at least half a dozen miles from home. Black Doug- 


58 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


las was in excellent condition, and seemed not to 
have turned a hair during the ride. Honor was 
again in extravagant terms expressing her apprecia- 
tion of his perfections, "^vhen all at once the horse 
stopped short in the middle of the road. 

“ Well,’’ said Honor, surprised, “ what’s the matter 
now 1 The harness must be broken somewhere, and 
he knows it. Please get out, Livingston, and see 
what it is.” 

So Livingston got out and examined the harness 
closely all around, the horse standing perfectly still. 

“ I don’t see as anything is the matter,” he at 
length said. 

“ Are you sure you would know if there was ? ” in- 
quired Honor a little irritably. Perhaps she had 
some sort of presentiment of what was coming. 
“ Well, get in again. Probably he stopped to 
breathe.” 

Livingston resumed his seat, and Honor drew up 
the reins again and bade the horse go on ; but he did 
not move. Whereupon she spoke to him sharply 
and then touched him lightly with the whip, but he 
only shook his head and flirted his tail. Not a step 
would he stir. And all at once it became plain as 
day what was the “fault” with Black Douglas. 

“ By Jove ! ” ejaculated Livingston — it was the 


IVhat was the Paiitt with Black Bouglas. 59 

only strong expression that the young gentleman 
ever indulged in, and the reader will, I am sure, per- 
mit him the use of it now and then in these chapters, 
*• By Jove ! He’s balky I ” 

“ Oh dear ! ” exclaimed Honor, realizing the 
dreadful truth at once, and almost ready to cry with 
vexation. She had been accustomed more or less to 
horses all her life, and understood perfectly well 
what a “ balky ” horse was. If that was Douglas’s 
fault then keeping him would indeed be out of the 
question, as her brother had said. 

“ Pshaw ! ” cried she. “ It is no such thing. I 
won’t have it ! ” And she stamped her foot on the 
bottom of the carriage. “ Here, you take the whip 
and lay it on him while I hold the reins. We’ll sec if 
he won’t go.’’ 

She wound the reins about her hands and drew 
them tight, bracing herself firmly in her place, while 
her companion, with no great force, struck the horse 
with the whip. The result did not encourage them 
to repeat the experiment however. Black Douglas 
never submitted to the lash. He gave a sort of 
plunge not so much forward as up in the air, and for 
a moment it seemed as though he would have fallen 
back upon the phaeton. Honor uttered a little cry. 


6o 


The Story of Honor B?'ight. 


and Livingston dropped his whip in alarm. The 
next moment, however, the horse was standing quiet 
and immovable as ever, coolly switching the flies with 
his tail. He had only wished to have the matter 
understood. He was candid and firm, as balky 
horses are apt to be. He had stopped there in the 
road because he chose to do so. When he went on 
again it would be for a precisely similar reason. 

Honor pulled at intervals upon the reins, and 
coaxed and threatened with all her womanly might, 
and her companion added his pleading to hers, but 
Black Douglas was inflexible. The whip they dared 
not use again. Livingston alighted once more, and 
cautiously taking hold of the bridle, sought to lead 
and then to pull him along, but the horse only shook 
his head, at first gently as though laughing at the 
attempt, and then with such decided emphasis that 
Livingston was quite willing to relinquish his hold. 

“ It’s of no use,” drawled the youth despairingly. 
“ I can’t start him.” 

“ Very well,” said Honor, laying down the reins 
and settling back resignedly in her seat. “ Then I 
suppose we’ll have to wait.” 

“ But it’s after one o’clock,” — looking at his watch. 
“We ought to be getting home. And what if he 
should ?iever start ? ” 


TV/ia^ was the Fault with Black Douglas. 6i 

Honor could not help laughing at his dismay. The 
next moment, however, there were actual tears in her 
eyes. 

“ It is too bad4 ” she cried. “ Such a splendid 
horse, and — he balks!” 

“ It’s a great misfortune,” observed Livingston by 
way of sympathy. 

“ It’s not a misfortune. It’s a calamity.” Honor 
had indeed set her heart upon keeping Black Douglas. 

“We might build a fire under him,” suggested Liv- 
ingston in all seriousness. He had heard that that 
would start a balky horse. 

Honor shook her head. “ It wouldn’t start ///;;/,” 
said she. “ Or if it did, he would never stop again at 
all.” She was rather proud of the horse’s very obsti- 
nacy. It was no second-rate obstinacy at any 
rate. 

“Or if we had a lump of sugar to give. him,” con- 
tinued Livingston. “ They say that will start them.” 

But at the word sugar Black Douglas himself, as 
though he understood it, threw up his head again 
with an air of the profoundest contempt, as much as 
to say, “ What do you take me for ? ” 

“ Oh dear 1 ” uttered Honor again. It was a cry of 
real distress. “ Livingston Mauran ! Why don\ you 
make him go?” 


62 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


Poor Livingston’s attitude and expression suffi- 
ciently expressed his utter helplessness in the case 
without any verbal reply. 

“ If I only were a man ! ” cried Miss Bright with 
contemptuous vehemence. And then suddenly, with 
an entire change of voice and manner, “Sir, would 
you be so kind — can’t you make my horse go?” 

The last half of her sentence had been addressed 
to a third person who had come up behind on foot, 
and who now stopped, then half turned and walked 
toward them. He was a jDerson of about Living- 
ston’s age, of dusty and disreputable appearance, ap- 
parently of the genus tramp. He had on an old 
straw hat with a torn rim, which, if truth be told, he 
had taken from the head of a scare-crow a few miles 
back. It was no robbery, though; he had left his 
own in exchange. 

“ Our horse has balked,” explained Livingston, 
thinking it best that he, as the gentleman of the party, 
should conduct whatever conversation it was neces- 
sary to hold with this stranger. 

The latter scarcely looked at either Livingston or 
Honor. He walked straight up to Black Douglas. 

“ He’s a splendid horse,” said he admiringly. “ It’s 
a pity he’s balky.” 

Then, half-pushing Livingston aside, he went to 


IV/iat was the Fault with Black Douglas. 63 

the animal’s head. “ Let me see,” he continued : 
“Horses always know me.’^ He took the velvet 
muzzle in both his hands and drew it close to his own 
face, seeming to talk to the horse all the while in low, 
caressing tones. Honor viewed his movements al- 
most with indignation. It seemed to her that this 
“person” was going altogether too far, putting his 
face thus familiarly side by side with that of her 
thoroughbred horse. 

There was nothing wonderful either, so far, in the 
stranger’s treatment of the case ; and Livingston, not 
believing that he could do anything for them, was 
about to tell him loftily that he might just as well 
move on again, when the latter let go the horse’s 
head and stepped to one side, at which,, strange to 
say. Black Douglas, with a low whinny, at once 
started forward* after him. The “tramp” caressed 
him for a moment longer, and then, with his hand 
still on the horse’s nose, walked slowly forward, the 
animal following him straight along without hesita- 
tion. 

“There,” said the stranger, halting again. “Per- 
haps he will go now. You get in ” — to Livingston — 
“and I’ll lead -him on a bit.” 

Livingston took his place again, while Honor, who 
had been searching in her purse, held out a coin. 


64 


The Story of Honor Bright, 


“ Here,” said she to the tramp. “ And thank you 
very much. I am sure he will go all right now.” 

The individual thus honored bowed, lifting his hat 
and showing a well-shaped head, close-cut as Living- 
ston’s own. 

“I’ll take the thanks,” said he oddly. “The 
money you can give to the other fellow. He did the 
best he could.” And he nodded toward the some- 
what astonished Livingston. Then he turned his 
back upon them decidedly, and began leading Black 
Douglas along the road. 

The horse advanced with perfect readiness so long 
as the stranger kept before ; but the instant the latter 
halted or drew back, Douglas stopped too, whinnying 
discontentedly and looking around af his new friend. 
And not ^ single step would he go wkhout him. 
Again and again the experiment was tried, but with 
the same result. 

“ It’s no use,” said the tramp at last, turning back 
to the phaeton with a low laugh. “ He won’t go on 
without me. I don’t see but you’ll have to take me 
in to drive you.” This last as if he were proposing 
the most ordinary thing in the world. 

“By Jove!” remarked Livingston in an undertone. 
“ There’s assurance for you 1 ” And then, aloud, he 
added, “I say, my friend. What’ll you ask to lead 


What was the Fault ivitk Black Douglas, 65 

him back to Random ? It’s only five miles and a half.” 

“Well,” responded the other coolly, “I’ll do it for 
five million dollars in gold, cash down. Or — I’ll do 
it for nothing if you’ll get out and walk back with me 
to keep me company.” 

Honor bit her lip in silent indignation. 

“ Don’t make any more words with him about it, 
Livingston,” said she. “ Here, Fll get out and walk 
and he can get in.” 

“ Oh, no ; don’t do that ! ’’said the traveller quick- 
ly, as she rose to step down from the phaeton. “ I’ll 
lead him, then, and trust you for the five million.” 

So he took hold of the bit again and they started 
on. But it seemed so hot and dusty for him, tired as 
he already must be, and it was such slow work, after 
all, walking the*horse, that the young lady presently 
relented and of her own accord asked him to get in. 

He accepted the invitation without comment, tak- 
ing his place on the edge of the seat outside of Liv- 
ingston, and letting his feet hang over the wheel. As 
for Black Douglas, he merely looked around to be 
quite sure that his new friend was not deserting him, 
and then started off for home with a brisk trot ; and 
presently the tramp handed over the reins to the 
young lady, remarking that he did not think there 
would be any more trouble. 


66 





The Story of Honor Bright. 


Honor took the reins without a word, and she 
scarcely spoke all the rest of the way back. She had 
found something to think about, however; for it had 
come to her all at once since they had started that 
she had seen this odd person before, two nights ago 
upon the Sound steamer. And in thinking over 
again his behavior on that occasion, and putting it 
beside what he had done to-day, she began to feel 
for him, in spite of his unprepossessing appearance, a 
considerable accession of interest and respect. She 
looked at him stealthily once or twice as they rode 
along. 

“ If he were only washed up and had a decent suit 
of clothes on — say a suit of livery — ” she thought 
to herself. 

And then she fixed her eyes on Black Douglas 
again and kept them there for a long while, turning 
over in her mind a plan that she had all at once con- 
ceived. And by the time they got to Random post- 
office she was talking away again to Livingston in the 
best of spirits. The fact was, she thought she saw 
her way clear to keeping Black Douglas after all. 

And Miss Bright did not stop at the gate when 
they got to Hollownook, to drop the tramp whom she 
had brought home with her, but drove straight in and 
around back of the house. 


X 




W/ia^ was the Fault with Black Douglas. 67 

“If you’ll wait a little while,” she said to the 
stranger, “ you shall have something to eat.” 

At which the latter nodded' in a matter-of-fact way 
and strolled off toward the stable. Perhaps he had 
expected something of the sort, himself. At least he 
evidently had no objection to “ waiting a little while.” 
Probably his time was not especially valuable. 

Meanwhile Honor had gone into the kitchen and 
told Elspeth McKay,- the Scotch housekeeper, that 
she wanted that tramp fed and cared for. 

“And if possible,” said she, “give him some sort 
of a job so as to keep him about here until night. I 
want Mr. Murdoch to see him.” 


CHAPTER V. 


RUGGLES GETS A PLACE, 



HE “ longest day in the year” was far gone in^o 


i its afternoon now. The clock in the hall 
struck the half-hour after four as Honor came down- 
stairs fresh from a long nap. I have often noticed 
that people who get up very early in the morning are 
given to long naps in the afternoon. She stepped out 
upon the piazza and stood there. There was a cool 
breeze in the tree-tops, and the shadows of the elms 
were growing long again upon the grass. 

At that moment Angus came rushing through the 
hall like a gale of wind, in at the back door and out 
at the front. He had caught sight of Honor’s dress 
on the piazza. 

“ Aunt Honor, aunt Honor,” he cried, ^seizing hold 
of her. “ Have you got an old hoop-skirt ? He wants a 
piece of the steel. He is making me an officer-kite.” 


68 



















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RuggJes Gets a Place, 


71 


Honor laughed. “ Who is ^ he' V asked she. 

“ Oh, Ruggles. He told me what his name was 
this time. Say, have you got a piece } ” 

“ I don’t know. I’m sure. I’ll go and see.” 

So they went up-stairs together ; and though Honor 
was unable to produce the desired skirt-wire, Angus’ 
mother found a piece for him, and he hurried off 
again to ask Ruggles if it would do. 

Honor followed slowly with intentions of her own. 
She comprehended that “ Ruggles ” was the person 
who had driven her home, and whom she had asked 
Elspeth to keep about the place until night. She 
went out the front door, and wandering carelessly 
around the house, came upon the two, Angus and the 
stranger, busy with their kite out by the side-door. 
The latter was washed and brushed up a bit, and al- 
ready appeared rather more respectable. 

Ruggles was down on his knees on the concrete 
walk, so busy with his work that he did not see the 
new-comer at all. The kite that he was making 
seemed to be of the ordinary pattern, save that its 
backbone ran up some ten or twelve inches above 
the bow, and had a short cross-piece upon it near this 
upper end. Honor had been a manufacturer of kites 
herself in her day, and noticed this peculiarity at 
once. She hardly understood the reason of it, how- 


72 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


ever, even when the kite-maker took a piece of hoop- 
skirt wire which he now held in his hand divested of 
its covering, and running it through a place in the 
backbone close to the bow, brought the ends around, 
passing them again through the cross-piece, near the 
ends thereof, so as to leave a framed half-circle below 
it, then bringing the ends of the wire together to a 
point at the extreme end of the backbone. This 
completed, he held up his work and looked at it, a 
kite-frame like any other, save that above the bow 
there was an additional frame some six inches wide 
and twelve high, of the shape of a half-circle and a 
half-diamond put together. 

“ What is that for, pray ? ” inquired Honor, seizing 
the first favorable opportunity to make herself known. 
There was no reason, of course, why she should not 
address this person if it pleased her, this farmer, trav- 
eller, tramp, or whatever he was. Indeed, to have 
hesitated to do so would have been to assume that he 
was of some importance. 

The young fellow looked up quickly, but exhibited 
neither surprise nor confusion. 

“That’s a frame for a kite,” he said simply. 

“ Oh, the upper part ? ” * 

“ It’s an officer-kite, and that is the head and cap. 
When I get the paper on and get it painted, then you 


Ruggles Gets a Place. 


n 


will see. I don’t know where I’ll get the paint, 
though.” He took off his hat and looked thought- 
fully around. “ Is there any colored paint about the 
place, young fellow ? ” This last to Angus, who was 
squatted down near by, watching proceedings. 

“ I have plenty of paints,” said Honor. “ Do you 
want oils or water-colors ? ” 

“ Oh, water-colors will do, I guess. We shan’t 
want to fly the kite in a storm. Besides, the oil would 
spread.” 

“ Is this your own idea?” asked Honor — “this 
officer-kite ? ” 

“ No. That is, the extra part of the frame is. The 
idea of painting the kite like an officer I got out of a 
book I used to have. I thought it would look better 
with the head above the bow. And I can sling it so 
it will fly just as well,” 

“ You are very ingenious,” remarked Honor, pat- 
ronizingly. “ I should never have thought of utiliz- 
ing a skirt-wire in that way. Gail Hamilton says ‘ a 
hoop-skirt is the one thing on earth for which there is 
no secondary use.’ ” 

“ Pooh ! ” observed the young man, freely. “ If 
you’ll bring him to me. I’ll ^how him a dozen second- 
ary uses to put it to.” He evidently took the person 
named to be a man, perhaps some personal friend of 


74 


The S/ory of Honor Bright. 


Honor’s. “ Why,” he added, a second later, “ a Ute 
Indian would know better than that. I saw one once, 
out in Denver, wearing a hoop-skirt around for a bon- 
net. He looked funny enough, I tell you.” And the 
speaker laughed at the recollection. “ I don’t know 
where he could have gotten it,” he continued. 
“ Bought it at some dry-goods store, I suppose. They 
are great for finery, those Indians.” 

Honor listened with increasing interest. This fel- 
low might be a tramp and very far beneath her in 
every respect ; but she acknowledged to herself that 
he talked well, and that neither his face nor his man- 
ners were ordinary. 

“ Angus tells me your name is Ruggles,” she went 
on in a tone half-inquiring. 

The other held up his kite-frame, shifting the piece 
of wire a little to suit his eye. 

“Yes,” he answered, at length, “Thomas Rug- 
gles.” 

“ And you’ve been in Colorado ? Was it there that 
you learned to manage horses ? ” 

“ Well, I had a good deal to do with ’em out there, 
first and last. But I always could manage ’em pretty 
well. It was born in me. For that matter I’m not 
sure but that it’s born in every decent man, if he only 
knew it.” 


Rtiggles Gets a Place. 


75 


“ What do you mean by that ? ” questioned the girl. 

“Well, I don’t know.” Ruggles spoke slowly, as 
though he had never tried to put his idea into words 
before. “ I fancy that every man that is a man has 
something in him that might make him master of any 
lower animal. It’s a part of his very manhood, you 
know. When God had made all the other animals, 
then he made man in his own image, and to him he 
gave dominion ‘ over the fish of the sea., and over the fowl 
of the air., and over the cattle, a7idover every creeping thing 
that creepeth upon the earth I ” Ruggles repeated the 
words very reverently, as one who believes all words of 
Scripture to be God’s words. “ While Adam was a 
good man, before he fell, he did have dominion over 
every living thing. He went about among them as he 
l^leased, and not one of them dared to touch him. In- 
deed, I don’t believe they wanted to. They were all 
gentle enough then. It was only after man sinned 
and lost the mastery of himself, and got ashamed of 
himself, that he lost the mastery over the animals, 
and began to get afraid of them and treat them mean 
and make them wild.” 

Ruggles had gone on with his thoughts until he - 
had grown quite earnest and eloquent ; but looking 
up now and catching Honor’s eye, he suddenly 
stopped. As for the latter, she was listening with 


76 The Story of Hoiior Bright. 

wonder and complete attention. She had ideas of 
her own as to the first chapter of Genesis, and it 
sounded to her almost strange to hear this lad talking 
about it in this way. 

“ Why,” said she, “ I don’t believe that is to be 
taken literally — about the creation and all that. Do 
you really believe there was a Garden, and that Adam 
was put in it, and that he named all the animals ? ” 

Ruggles looked at her wonderingly in turn. “ Be- 
lieve it!” repeated he, forgetting his embarrassmert 
again in the intensity of his conviction. “ Of course 
I do I Don't you 2 Why, it would be pure nonsense if 
it were not exactly true, every word. And as for man’^ 
having once had full power over all the animals, I know 
that. Why, he hasn’t entirely lost it now. Don’t we 
read sometimes of men looking dogs and lions in the 
eye and quelling ’em ? Don’t men charm snakes 1 
All that, I tell you, is a remnant — a hint — of this 
power that God gave man in the first place. It’s the 
natural relation of man and beast to be friendly, 
and for the man to be master. And if any man could 
be perfect., as Adam was before the Fall, then I be- 
lieve he could do what he pleased with the animals, 
even now. Did the lions dare touch Daniel, and 
didn’t the ravens come and feed Elijah, and don’t we 
read that our Lord was with the wild beasts in the 


Ruggles Gets a Place. 


77 


wilderness ? And I believe now that if a man who 
is perfectly fearless and manly will walk up to a noble 
horse and show him that he respects himself and the 
horse too — I believe that they can be friends in five 
minutes.” 

Ruggles was red-hot with his subject again ; but at 
this point he paused once more, realizing all at once 
that he might seem to have at the last been thinking 
of himself. 

Honor had been listening breathlessly, quite car- 
ried away by the force of his manner and lan- 
guage. 

‘‘ Ah ! ” said she, “ just as you did this morning 
with Black Douglas.” 

“Yes,” responded Ruggles with some confusion. 
“ Just as I did this morning with Black Douglas. He 
is a noble horse.” 

“And you are a ‘perfectly fearless and manly 
man ’ ? ” Honor was smiling, but not in derision. 

“ Well, T certainly wasn’t afraid. And I respected 
myself and the horse too, and I let him see it. I 
confess, though, it isn’t everybody that can come to 
an understanding with a horse in that way, at least 
not so soon. I think there is some natural knack 
about it, too. I always could make friends with 
horses. Why, down in New Mexico, one time, a 


78 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


man I worked for had a horse that not one of his 
vaqueros dared mount — and they’re no fools of rid- 
ers, those Mexicans, you may be sure. They used to 
say they couldn’t get near enough to him even to lasso 
him ; but I don’t know about that. They didn’t want 
to, very bad. But I was out one day when the herd 
came by, and I stood there on a knoll all alone, and 
that horse left the rest and came and danced about 
me for fifteen minutes or so, and then actually trotted 
close up to me and put his nose on my shoulder. He 
knew that I wouldn’t have abused his confidence for 
a fifty-pound nugget. It was nothing, only that he 
knew a friend when he saw him. And that was the 
way with your Black to-day. If I had a week with 
that horse, I could call him to me if there were a 
prairie on fire between us. It’s too bad he balks. 
And I doubt if he can be cured.” 

“ Could yon cure him if you had him for a while t ” 
asked Honor eagerly. 

“I don’t know. I’m afraid not — that is, not so 
he would never balk at all. It’s in him. But he 
never would balk with me.^'' 

“ Well, then,” went on Honor with desperate ab- 
ruptness, “ why won’t you stay here and drive him 
for me ? I’ve set my heart on keeping him. And of 
course I could never go anywhere with him if he is 


Ruggles Gets a Place. 


79 


liable to balk. Will you ? It shall be made satisfac- 
tory in every way, and you shall have nothing else 
whatever to do ! Oh, please do ! ” 

And here was this haughty and aristocratic young 
lady holding up her clasped hands to this unknown 
adventurer, and looking into his faCe in the most be- 
seeching way possible. 

Ruggles seemed to deliberate for a moment. Honor 
watching him very anxiously. She really would have 
been vexed and disappointed beyond measure if he 
had refused. 

“ I don’t know,” said the youth at last. “ Who 
owns this place ^ ” 

“Mr. Murdoch, my sister’s husband. But that 
doesn’t make any difference.” 

“ Is he here now ^ ” 

“ He will be very soon. He comes home at half- 
past five.” 

“ I should think he was the person to hire coach- 
men.” 

“ No,” said Honor. “ I hire my own coachman. 
He only endorses whatever I do. Is that the only 
thing in the way of your staying ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Ruggles. “ If he is willing to have 
me come, why. I’ll come, and glad of the chance.” 

“ Well, then ! ” And Miss Honor clapped her 


8o 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


hands gleefully and ran off, pleased as a child, to 
meet her brother, who at that moment drove in at 
the great gate. 

The matter of the new coachman was not mentioned, 
however, until after dinner. Then Mr. Murdoch, 
duly instructed by Honor, and not a little interested 
in the scheme himself, went around and held quite a 
long interview with Ruggles, the result of which was 
that the lad was engaged, at a certain reasonable rate 
per month, to take entire charge of the horses at 
Hollownook, and, indeed, to serve as the family 
coachman. Ruggles himself had preferred this ar- 
rangement. He had inspected the stables, under- 
stood just what work there would be to do, and con- 
sidered himself perfectly competent to do it. If he 
was going to draw any pay, he said, he wanted to 
feel as though he was doing something to earn it. 
And Mr. Murdoch, who had long felt that he ought 
to have another hand about the place, and that per- 
haps it would be as well to relieve Donald from the 
care of the stable altogether, was quite satisfied to 
have the matter so. Honor, when informed of the 
arrangement, made some objection. She declared 
that she had discovered Ruggles, and that she wanted 
him as her own individual coachman. But she was 
promised that the young man should be always at 


Riiggles Gets a Place. 8i 

her disposal when she wanted him; and the matter 
rested there. 

The girl sat down at her window to think about it 
again after she had gone up-stairs.' How jolly it was 
that Black Douglas could be kept, after all ! And 
there would be no more trouble about his balkins; f 
Ruggles would take care of that. And how nice the 
young man would look in a suit of livery, sitting up 
on a high seat behind her ! For Honor meant to put 
her coachman into livery, by all means, and she 
should go into town at once to* pick out a new 
phaeton — one with a high seat for Ruggles behind. 
Honor was very fond of “style,” in her way. Indeed, 
if came natural to her. The Brights had been quite 
accustomed to it, years ago, in the South, before the 
war. She had not said anything about the livery that 
night. She had been half afraid that Mr. Murdoch 
would laugh at the idea. But she meant to carry it 
out nevertheless. As for Ruggles, nothing probably 
would suit him better. He would be as proud as she 
of his high hat with a rosette, and a long drab coat 
and brass buttons. Indeed, there would be no such 
turnout as hers this side Boston ! 

And then, thinking still of some things this new- 
comer at Hollownook had said and done that day, 
she went and lit her lamp; and then, taking her 


82 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


Bible, she sat clown again, and, opening the book 
at its very beginning, read the first chapter of Gene- 
‘sis carefully through. And all the while, strange to 
say, it seemed to her that she was not -so much read- 
ing as being read to. Verse after verse of that 
ancient story she seemed to hear the strong, earnest 
tones that she had listened to that afternoon repeat- 
ing in her ear ; and when she had finished the chap- 
ter she realized that it was full of meaning that she 
had never guessed at before. 


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CHAPTER VI. 


IN WHICH THE STORY DOES NOT GET ON. 

R UGGLES had been turned over to Elspeth to be 
taken care of for the night, and that worthy 
person was not a little puzzled as to what she would do 
with him. There were plenty of spare beds in the 
house ; but she had no intention of putting a newly 
hired coachman into any of them. She declared at 
length that Donald Campbell must give up half his bed, 
but the old Scotchman vetoed the proposition with a 
decided growl. Donald was far from pleased with the 
idea of having a new hand about the place. Ruggles 
himself finally settled the difficulty by taking a horse- 
blanket and going off down to the Hollow. Sleep- 
ing in a hammock under the trees on a summer night 
was anything but a hardship to him. 

The next day, however, a room up-stairs in the 
stable was cleared and fitted up for his use. The 

85 


86 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


stable was modern-built, and the room both pleasant 
and comfortable. And after it had been cleaned and 
furnished, Honor herself came out with some curtains 
and pictures and some books for the table, that alto- 
gether made the place very inviting. Ruggles seemed 
greatly pleased with it all. And indeed he well might 
be. Most of his nights for the last three years had 
been spent amid far less luxurious surroundings. 

There was no puzzle about Ruggles in the minds 
of anybody from the very first — no suspicion that he 
was anything different from that which he appeared. 
Indeed, for that matter, he was not. His name ws 
the only assumed thing about him, after all, and he 
believed that he had come honestly enough by that. 
As for the facts of his earlier years, he simply kept 
quiet about them, as he had a perfect right to do. 
And his life in the West had given him a roughness 
and plainness that was quite in keeping with his pres- 
ent position. He might have a history — any tramp 
might ; but, at least at this time, nobody at Hollow- 
nook troubled themselves at all about it, or thought 
of separating him in their Ands from the; circum- 
stances under which he had presented himself. He 
was bright, respectful (though now and then rather 
familiar), and apparently quite honest. That was 
enough for Mr. Murdoch, a shrewd business man who 


HOW RUGGLES SETTLED THK gULSTIOK, 


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In which the Story does not get on. 89 

knew the world. And if the fellow could manage 
Black Douglas, and Honor wanted him for a “ tiger,” 
why. Honor should have him. Honor always had 
what she wanted, anyway. Why shouldn’t she, with 
two hundred and fifty thousand dollars of her own ? 

And indeed the words “ bright, respectful and hon- 
est ” went a good way toward describing Thomas 
Ruggles. Bright he certainly was. A duller boy than 
he ever had been must have learned, in all the knock- 
ing about that he had received, to keep his eyes and 
ears open, and to comprehend tolerably well and 
quickly whatever people or things he came into rela- 
tion with. But rich as he was in experience, and self- 
reliant as it had made him, he had never lost a cer- 
tain modesty as to his own merits and opinions which 
had been born in him, and which prompted him al- 
ways to treat others, especially his elders, with re- 
spect. And for his honesty, I do not hesitate to say 
that he was honest as the day. He had a frank, open 
way with him that was unmistakable. I know that he 
was in a sense in a false position. If you should put 
it as harshly as you could, you might say, certainly, 
that he was imposing upon these people at Hollow- 
nook, passing himself of¥ for what he was not, and 
concealing his real name and position. Yet it never 
entered the head of the lad himself to look at the 


90 


The Story of Ho7ior Bright 


affair in any such way as that. Coming back to New 
England, he found himself, all at once, quite forgot- 
ten, his inheritance and his very name in possession 
of another. He was friendless and homeless, and the 
only man connected with the matter to whom he was 
known, the old lawyer, was thousands of miles away. 
Is it any wonder, as he stood looking down at himself 
with his hands in his empty pockets, that he felt like 
a tramp, and, in fact, became one ? Besides, Ruggles 
had hired his new name and given every cent he had 
in the world in payment. Had not Honor Bright 
herself changed her name, and, so far from paying for 
the new one, received money for the change instead 
At any rate, the hero of this story felt himself honest 
as the day. He naturajly hated a lie. And I prom- 
ise here that the one he told when he gave his name 
as Thomas Ruggles is the last one that shall pass his 
lips throughout the narrative. 

It seems to me also that a word or two had best be 
said, before the story goes any further, of its heroine 
as well as its hero. In spite of myself, I feel about her 
a good deal as one who has introduced a friend whom 
he admires and likes, himself, and knows others will 
admire and like by and by, but is a little anxious as 
to the impression she will make at first, and so is 
tempted to explain or apologize for some things that 


In luliich the Story docs not get on. 


9 


might to a stranger seem odd or inconsistent. The 
girl was not perfect ; and, though we may not have 
seen very much of it as yet, as the story continues we 
shall find her at times doing and saying some ques- 
tionable things. She was hot-tempered and hasty, 
and she could be, on occasion, unjust, unreasonable, 
disagreeable, and even rude. But in saying so much, 
I have tried to say the very worst of her. Her bit- 
terest enemies at school (she had such, be sure) had 
acknowledged of her more than once that there was 
nothing small or mean about her ; and her friends 
(their name was legion) never lost an opportunity of 
declaring that at heart she was good as gold and true 
as steel. And I, who have tried to say the worst of 
her, may try and tell the best of her, too. Her worst 
moments were the moments when she forgot herself : 
and that self was really generous and kind and good. 
She might be foolish and unfair and wrong often, but 
always there was her real self to appeal to ; and once 
she realized her fault, she did her best at once and 
fully to repair it. So much for the character of 
Honor Bright. It was not a consistent one, I grant, 
and my description of it may have its contradictions ; 
but I must ask the reader to take it as it is, and form 
the best idea of her that he can. Perhaps it will 
seem a clearer one later on. 


92 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


It was on the afternoon of this second day, while . 
she was still overseeing the arrangement of the room 
over the stable, that Honor mentioned to Ruggles 
the subject of the livery. 

“ by the way, Ruggles,” she said, just as she was 
turning to go back to the house for something, “ I 
shall want you to wear a livery. I suppose you will 
have to go into town to get measured.” 

She waited a full half-minute for an answer; and 
when it came it was not at all what she expected. 

“Fm very sorry. Miss Bright,” Ruggles said slowly; . 
“but if you don’t mind, Fd rather not do that.” 

“ What ? Go into town ? !’ 

“ No : wear a livery.” 

“ But I do mind,” said Honor. 

Ruggles shook his head. “ Fd rather not,” re- 
peated he. “ Why, the boys would all hoot at me and 
call me ‘Buttons,’ like they did old — ” He stopped 
himself here, but he still shook his head. “No, Miss 
]jright, I can’t do it.” 

“ Pooh F’ cried Honor with fine scorn. “You 
certainly aren’t afraid of the boys ! ” 

“ No, I don’t know as I am. It would be mighty 
inconvenient, though, getting down every two minutes 
to break their necks. But I don’t like the idea itself. 

I never should feel right in a suit of livery — indeed 


In which the Story does not get on. 93 

I shouldn’t. I hope you \von’t ask it, Miss Bright.” 

Honor was very angry at this, as it seemed to her 
unreasonable obstinacy, and sharper words still were 
on her lips to say. But both pride and prudence 
came to her aid, and she turned and marched down- 
stairs without another word. She would not stand 
thus and argue with a servant, she said to herself. 
And she knew too that Ruggles meant what he said, 
and she preferred giving up her livery to losing her 
coachman. So the matter was 'dropped once for all. 

She treated Ruggles rather coolly for a day or two 
after this, but he did not seem to notice it, and grad- 
ually her feeling on the subject wore away. And 
the following Monday, when she went into town with 
Mr. Murdoch to look up a new phaeton, Ruggles was 
taken along for the sake of lys judgment, which al- 
ready was held in high esteem. And at, the same 
time, the young man went around to a tailor’s and 
ordered a suit of blue flannel, which, when, a few 
days after, he first appeared in it, looked so neat and 
nice that Honor confessed to herself she was rather 
glad, after all, he had objected to the livery. 


CHAPTER VII. 


ON MIZPAH. 

H onor had changed her mind after all as to 
what sort of a carriage she would have. Mr. 
Murdoch had laughed at her all the way into town 
about the “ dickey ; ” and when, after visiting half a 
dozen different carriage-shops, it appeared that ex- 
actly such a vehicle as she had in mind probably did 
not exist and would have to be built for her, she was 
rather glad to make the fact an excuse for giving up 
her idea, and directing to be sent out a stylish two- 
seat basket-phaeton with which she had been taken 
from the first. She was not without a feeling herself 
that it would look quite as well for Ruggles to sit on 
the front seat and do the driving. Ruggles, too, was 
not a little relieved. He had not at all relished the 
idea of being perched up there behind, with his arms 
folded and a helpless air. 


94 


On Mizpah, 


95 


The phaeton had been sent out at once, and Honor 
found that she enjoyed her new turnout immensely. 
Just at this time Random life was extremely quiet, 
and her daily ride off over the high, far-looking hills 
or along the shady forest roads seemed almost a 
necessity to her. On such occasions, besides Rug- 
gles, she sometimes took Livingston, and sometimes 
Mrs. Murdoch. But oftener she contented herself 
with the society of Angus, who answered very well the 
purpose of a companion, and yet did not interfere ever 
with any indulgence of her own peculiar mood or whim. 
Ruggles himself she did not, of course, regard as a 
companion. He was her driver, a part of the “ turn- 
out,” precisely as was the horse, or phaeton, or the 
-long whip with its bit of scarlet ribbon attached. 
Nevertheless, she often talked with him as they rode 
along, and found him, with his original, earnest way of 
looking at things and his fund of practical knowledge, 
extremely entertaining. He was respectful and mod- 
est, rarely speaking now unless spoken to, and not 
talking unless encouraged to do so. 

So the perfect June days drew to a close. It was 
on the morning of the very last of them that Honor, 
with Augus for her escort, started off upon what she 
meant to be a long drive. 

‘‘You need not worry if we do not get back until 


96 




T/ie Story of Hofior Bright. 

dinner,” she said to Mrs. Murdoch. “ Indeed, I 
think we will come home by the station and bring Mr. 
Murdoch — so Donald need not go over. No, we 
won’t take any lunch. If we want any we will pick 
it up somewhere.” 

And at the gate, when Ruggles looked around to 
know which way he should turn, she hesitated a mo- 
ment and then said ; 

“Toward Mizpah, I think. It is just the day for 
the view.” And then she motioned him to stop a mo- 
ment, at the same time bidding Angus run back for 
the field-glasses. 

Mizpah was a lofty hill, almost deserving the name 
of mountain, situated -some eight miles west of Ran- 
dom Centre. On a clear day the surrounding coun- 
try could be seen from its summit for many miles. It 
had always been a favorite spot with Honor ; but she 
had not been over since her return from school. She 
had been “ saving it ” until exactly the right day 
should come and she should feel just like it. 

They had plenty of time before them, and drove 
slowly. Honor was not in a talkative mood, and sat 
on the back seat in silence, enjoying the ride and the 
beauty of the morning. And Ruggles, too, did not 
seem disposed to say much, though Angus, who was 
on the seat with him, kept vip a constant stream of 


0?i Mizpah, 


97 


questions and remarks. The latter young gentleman 
seemed quite capable of doing the talking for all 
three of them. Honor at last interrupted him a little 
impatiently. 

“ Angus,” said she, “ you must not talk so much. 
It’s not proper for children. Why, I do believe, if 
you had been Friday, you would have driven poor 
Robinson Crusoe crazy with questions before you had 
been on the island half an hour.” 

Angus seemed greatly struck by this observation, 
and sat considering it thoughtfully for several minutes. 
In the mean time Honor herself, having once spoken, 
seemed inclined to talk. She began by inquiring 
about Black Douglass — whose back, when he first 
came to Hollownook, had been found to be badly 
chafed ; and then she proceeded to discuss at some 
length the subject of horses and horseback riding. 
As soon as Douglass could bear a saddle, she should 
want to begin at pnce the latter exercise ; and she 
should expect Ruggles to attend and give her les- 
sons. 

Of course a new horse must be obtained at once. 
Potiphar would never do. And she should want a 
good one — Ruggles himself must go and select him. 
At which point Angus, tired of listening, once more in- 
sisted upon taking part in the conversation. His pony 


98 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


must be bought at the same time, he said. The gov- 
ernor had promised him a pony -long ago. Where- 
upon Honor inquired ironically if it was the Governor 
of Massachusetts to whom he referred, remarking that 
his Excellency was certainly very kind. 

At Never-Rest, a straggling village just this side 
Mizpah, they halted a moment at the one store of the 
place and sent Angus in for some pickles and crack- 
ers and whatever else he might find that would serve 
as a lunch, and then, driving on and turning in pres- 
ently at a red gate, through a lane to some woods, 
and then by a winding and rapidly ascending cart- 
path, they made their way after a jolting journey up 
this very side of Mizpah itself, coming out suddenly 
at last upon a broad level shelf' that ran around the 
very summit of the mount, and from which the “view” 
which Honor was so fond of, burst upon them all at 
once — a charming New England landscape miles and 
miles in extent spread out below them. 

They sat for a few moments enjoying the outlook in 
silence. Then, Honor jumping down and signifying 
her intention of remaining here awhile, Ruggles led 
the horse around to a shady spot beneath the hill, 
after which, of his own accord, he brovight the car- 
riage robes and spread them on the grass under the 
tree where they had halted. He also brought the 


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cushions, and putting one upon the other made a very 
comfortable seat. Honor, meanwhile, had laid out 
their store of provisions upon the ground, and was 
arranging them with all the elaborateness that their 
quantity and character allowed. This sort of thing 
was just what the girl liked, and she was enjoying 
herself, in a quiet way, to the full. And when pres- 
ently Angus cried out in dismay that they had noth- 
ing from which to drink the hep-beer (which on his 
own responsibility he had added to his purchases and 
which the storekeeper had assured him was entirely 
harmless and indeed wholesome in its effects). Honor 
laughed merrily and remarked that they would have 
to drink out of the bottles. 

Ruggles the while had gone back to relieve Black 
Douglass of a portion of his harness and give him his 
feed. Honor had noticed before this how thoughtful 
he was always of his horse, and she was pleased with 
him for it. There was a ring of generous fellowship 
in her voice as, when she saw that he was through, 
she called to him to “come to dinner.” And she 
was very cordial to him all the noontime. Indeed, 
all alone by themselves up here, quite above the 
world, the world’s distinctions seemed to have 
dropped out of sight for the time, and constantly the 
young lady found herself talking familiarly and pleas- 


102 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


antly with her coachman, quite as though they were 
equals. As for Ruggles, if he was conscious of any 
difference in her manner he did nojt show if. He 
simply talked freely and easily in turn, as though to 
do so were the most natural thing in the world. In- 
deed, in thinking of it afterward, when she got back 
to the ordinary level of things, and feeling a little 
vexed with herself, perhaps, Honor could not help 
wondering at the readiness with which Ruggles had 
adapted himself to her mood. Ordinarily, she said 
to herself, a person in his position thus admitted to 
a footing of equality would have shown his ^>/equality 
by overstepping the line. But this Ruggles never 
did. 

They were a long time at their lunch, although no 
one was very hungry. It was half-past one by Hon- 
or’s watch when they finished. Afterward Angus, 
finding himself of no particular importance just now 
— a fact which bored him rather than hurt his feel- 
ings — went off over the top of the hill to attempt 
anew a task which was always waiting for him there, 
the starting down into the plain below of an immense 
stone that was tantalizingly balanced on the very edge 
of the summit. To be sure he had tried the same 
thing and failed many times before, but he always 
assumed himself to have increased enormously in 


ON THE WAY TO MIZPAH* 



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On Mizpah. 


105 

strength whenever he revisited the spot, and hoped 
therefore each time to accomplish it. Honor mean- 
while had gone to the edge of the shelf and was look- 
ing off|^to the distance. She turned presently to go 
to the carriage for the glasses, but Ruggles had fore- 
seen her wish, and stood holding them beside 
her. 

She thanked him as she took them, and adjusting 
them to a mark upon the barrel, she looked off toward 
the north and west, sweeping the horizon slowly as 
though in search of some particular object. 

“ We ought to see Trellisdale on a day like this,” 
she said presently, more to herself than to her com- 
panion. Then she gazed long and steadily in one 
direction at an object so far off and indistinct that 
Ruggles’ unassisted eye could barely make it out at 
all. “ Yes, that certainly must be it. Take the glass, 
Ruggles, and see if there are not two steeples, one 
tall one, and one a great deal shorter and darker.” 

Ruggles took the glass with an dagerness which she 
must have noticed had she been looking at him. He 
found the object at once, and looked at it in silence 
for several moments. 

“ Yes,” he said at length, drawing a breath almost 
like a sigh. “That is Trellisdale.” He spoke quite 
positively, as though there could be no doubt. 


o6 


The Story of Honor Bright, 


“You can see the two steeples, then — the one 
taller than the other ? ” 

“ Yes,” answered Ruggles briefly. He had seen 
something else too, that he knew perfectly well — a 
shining white cupola high on a hill to the right. He 
remembered how it had looked the last time his eyes 
had rested upon it, when he had turned back for an 
instant that winter’s night nearly three years ago and 
saw it glittering in the moonlight. 

“Yes,” Honor herself repeated, as though it re- 
mained for her to finally settle the matter, “ I ought 
to know the place. I spent a week there once, with 
poor Mr. Bright, the summer before he died. I shall 
want to drive over there some day. It is only thirty 
or forty miles.” 

She took the glass again, looking toward Trellis- 
dale a moment more, and then around at the towns 
and hills that were closer and more plainly to be 
seen. 

Ruggles seemed fo enjoy the view quite as much 
without the glasses. 

“ I’ve seen some mighty grand scenery out there,” 
he said, half unconsciously, and thinking of the region 
he had lately left behind. “ But, after all, there is 
nothing like these Massachusetts hills and villages to 
me. Somehow or other, they seem to please my eye 


On Mizpah. 


107 


a great deal better than anything I’ve ever seen in the 
Rocky Mountains. I suppose it’s because it’s home 
to me.” 

“ Were you born in Massachusetts, Ruggles,” asked 
Honor. 

Ruggles rather started, and then answered deliber- 
ately, “Yes I was born and brought up within sight 
of this very place.” 

Honor looked at him a moment with a new kind of 
interest. She had never thought of him before as 
having been born and brought up anywhere. 

She began to shut the glasses presently, and then, 
pausing, held them out again to her companion. 

Ruggles shook his head. “ No,” said he, “ I don’t 
care for them except when I am looking for something 
a great way off. They only make it all look like a 
picture. I prefer it as it is. It looks now just like a 
dream.” 

Honor, looking around once more, caught his notion, 
though she had not thought of it before. 

It was a still summer noon. Just the faintest breath 
of a breeze, perfumed with sweet-fern and pine, came 
up from the rocks and slopes below. A restless crow 
was hovering above his mate in the buttonwood yon- 
der, just far enough off to rob his cry of its jarring 
note. Above and all along the horizon’s edge there 


io8 


The Story of Honor Bright, 


were long, irregular banks of clouds, soft and benefi- 
cent, without a hint of tempest in their shape or tex- 
ture. 



ON MIZFAH. 


“ Yes,” murmured Honor. “ It is like a dream, 
and we ourselves are a part of it. It is just perfect 
at this moment, is it not } ” She looked around 
again with grown delight. “ ‘ Oh, what is so rare as a 



On Mizpah. 


109 

day in June ! ’ Have you read Lowell, Ruggles ? ” 
This last in a tone half-serious, as one asks questions 
to amuse one’s self. 

Ruggles shook his head. He had forgotten who 
Lowell was, though if she had said Hosea Bigelow he 
would have remembered. He had spoken “The 
Courtin’ ” a long while ago at a school exhibition. 

“ ‘ There is no price set on the lavish summer, 

And June may be had by the poorest comer,’ ” 

Honor went on, quoting from the same poet another 
verse that occurred to her. “ I wonder how much 
truth there is in that, after all. Do you really sup- 
pose that poor people enjoy ordinary things, the 
weather and nature and all that, as well as rich 
people "i ” She was in that dreamy, irresponsible 
mood that, within necessary limits, says just what 
comes into its head. 

“ Do you think you enjoy this scene any more than 
I do } ” asked Ruggles simply. And it was the best 
possible answer. Then he went on sturdily, “ I think 
that so long as anybody has health and strength and 
a free conscience he can enjoy a day like this fully. 
The summer is just as much mine as anybody’s.” 

Honor shook her head. “ That all may be,” said 
she. “ But after all, again, do you think that those 


no 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


men turning hay clown there (they are well and strong 
and conscience-free, I’ve no doubt), or their wives 
washing dishes at home — do you think they enjoy 
the day as we do ? I don't believe it ever occurs to 
them to do it.” 

Ruggles was silent. Honor’s was a fair answer in 
turn, and he did not know just what to say 
to it. / 

“ No,” she went on decidedly. “If one is really 
to enjoy, one must have leisure and freedom from 
worry in order to do it. Do you think I could ever 
enjoy anything if I had to teach school for a living, 
or sit up all night and sew, or if I had a sick family 
to support ? Oh, how I should hate to be poor ! ” 

The remark was not a pleasing one, but, with some 
slight allowance for exaggeration, it expressed fairly 
Honor Bright’s feeling about poverty, and it was a 
feeling that was not unnatural in her. Since her sis- 
ter had married Mr. Murdoch, Honor had lived in 
comfort if not luxury, and from the time of old Honor 
Bright’s death, sh.e had had every wish gratified so 
far as money could do it. But, although she did not 
remember very much about it herself, in her earlier 
days she and Caroline had been very poor, and she 
had often heard her sister tell how worrisome and 
bitter had been the struggle to get along decently 


On Mizpah. 


Ill 


and keep up appearances. Honor could not help 
having now some of Mrs. Murdoch’s ideas as to the 
value of money. Besides, of her own nature, outward 
circumstances did make a great deal of difference to 
her frame of mind. She could be very happy in the 
sunshine. Perhaps she would have been very miser- 
able in the shadow and darkness. 

Ruggles, listening to her and watching her face, 
appreciated something of all this, as his answer, after 
a moment, showed. 

“Well,” said he soberly, “maybe it is different 
with different persons, and each one of us can only 
speak for himself. For my part, I don’t believe I 
should be one bit happier for having money. When 
I overtook you and Black Douglass the other day, I 
was whistling like a good one and was perfectly con- 
tented with myself. And yet I had on a ragged hat 
and not a single cent in my pocket. I felt as though 
I would rather go out into the world and conquer 
it that way than any other. I’m not sure but if I had 
a ten-pound nugget this minute. I’d chuck it down 
the hill there. I don’t want money. I can easily 
imagine, though, that it might be different with a 
woman — especially a woman who had always been 
used to — to money, instead of knocking about and 
roughing it as I have.” 


II2 


The Story of Ho7ior Bright. 


This last was said with all delicacy, as Honor felt. 
She was a little irritated nevertheless — perhaps at 
herself rather than her companion. She all at once 
turned abruptly and went and sat down upon the 
cushions. 

“ Ruggles,” said she, her voice and manner alto- 
gether changed, “J want you to go and see if An- 
gus is in any mischief.” 

The fact was, that what with the heat and stillness 
and their recent lunch. Honor was feeling very sleepy 
and she wished to be alone. 

Ruggles obediently withdrew, his thoughts still 
dwelling on what had been said. It did make a dif- 
ference, he said to himself again, whether it was a 
great strong fellow who had been knocked about as 
he had, who was to endure poverty, or a delicately 
brought up young lady like Honor Bright. Was not 
the hand of that Providence which he believed in, 
plainly to be seen in the fact that old Honor Bright’s 
money had been so strangely taken from him and 
given to this girl, after all ? Ruggles had never for 
one moment thought of the matter in this way before ; 
but he stood still now and thought of it with a kind 
of awe for several moments. And there awoke in his 
heart at that time a purpose whicli, quite faint then 
and ill-defined, so that he was scarcely conscious of 


On Mizpah. 


113 

it himself, was destined later to grow until it took 
entire possession of him. 

Angus was flat on his back beside his rolling-stone, 
fast asleep in the sun. Ruggles picked up the child’s 
hat and placed it so as to protect his head, and then 
went back, and sitting down in the shade at the end 
of the shelf, took a piece of paper from his pocket and 
fell to studying it with great industry. 

He was not quite out of Honor’s sight, however, 
and that young person, not being able to go to sleep 
after all as she had intended, lay there on the carriage 
robe watching him dreamily and wondering what it 
was that he was so deeply interested in. Perhaps she 
would not have been greatly the wiser if she could 
have seen neatly written at the head of the sheet : 
'‘^Middle voice of ^ov ?.€vco.” 

It was half-past three o’clock when at last they 
harnessed up and started down Mizpah again. And 
they took a long drive around through Bermuda Vil- 
lage so as not to reach the station before five. 

When the train came in, Livingston Mauran and 
Mr. Murdoch appeared together. Livy had been into 
town of some errands. 

“Sorry we can’t give you a seat, Livy,” said Mr. 
Murdoch, as they came across the platform. “We 
appear to be all full.” . 


1 14 The Story of Honor Bright. 

“Oh, I don’t mind,” answered Livy. “I can go 
over in the stage. I expected the buggy over, but it 
don’t seem to be here.” 

Then Mr. Murdoch took his place on the back seat 
beside Honor, and they drove off. 

“ Any letters ? ” the latter inquired, as soon as they 
were fairly started. That was always the first ques- 
tion at night. Hei* letters often came to Mr. Mur- 
doch’s town office. 

“Yes, one,” was the answer, and he handed her a 
heavy, square missive. 

“ It’s from Densie Drew,” she said, and she tore it 
open. “ Why, Ruggles ! ” 

The last exclamation was uttered abruptly and in a 
tone of almost angry reproach. Ruggles had reached 
over with the whip and given Black Douglass a cut 
across the shoulders, a thing he had not done before 
since he had known the horse. 

Ruggles made no answer, however, but looked 
straight ahead, having, or pretending to have, all he 
could do to attend to his driving. 

Honor returned to her letter. “ It’s from Densie 
Drew,” she repeated. “ And what do you think ! She 
is coming the second week in July, and will stay until 
after my birthday. Won’t it be jolly ? ” 

As for Ruggles, he was still looking straight ahead 


On Mizpah, 


IIS 

and seeing not a thing. Was it possible there could 
be two persons in the world who were named Densie 
Drew ? If not, then he was likely, the second week 
in July, to meet an old acquaintance. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


THE FLY-LEAF. 

I T was the next forenoon, while Mrs. Murdoch with 
her fancy-work and Honor with her book were sit- 
ting on the piazza, that Livingston Mauran came over. 
Mrs. Murdoch saw him first as he came up the path, 
and called out to welcome him. She was always glad 
to see Livingston. 

“ Ah ! ” cried she, “here he is, now.” She had been 
thinking of him a moment before. “ I wonder if he 
has any news for us. Livy is almost always full of 
news.” 

“News,” repeated Livy, catching the last word and 
guessing at the rest. “ I should think I had ! I 
saw Mort Wetherell yesterday. He and I went 
around to Parker’s for dinner, and we talked over the 
summer^s campaign. They’re coming out next week 
— and lots of other people. Whew! July has be- 

^ ii6 


The Fly-leaf. 


117 

gun in good earnest. It’s hot as hasty-pudding ! ” 
Livy’s tone was even more languid and drawling than 
usual. 

He came up the steps, and throwing himself into a 
steamer chair that stood there, picked up a fan and 
began fanning himself much more gracefully than 
men ordinarily do. Mrs. Murdoch looked at him 
with a sort of fond admiration. And indeed Honor 
was watching him too, half-lazily but with plenty of 
interest. People often watched Livy, even in spite of 
themselves. He was such a perfect specimen of his 
kind — a well-looking, well-dressed, aristocratic young 
fellow without a particle of self-consciousness amid 
all his airs and graces, exactly fitted for his present 
occupation — sitting on the piazza, of a summer 
morning, and talking to ladies over their novels 
and fancy-work. To-day he wore a stylish sacque- 
suit of black Scotch, showing at the neck a neat 
checked shirt with low-cut collar. His hat was a be- 
coming one of fine white straw, and his low shoes with 
socks of the latest fashionable pattern were unexcep- 
tionable. 

‘‘Livy,” said Honor, laughing, “excuse me — it’s 
none of my business, of course — but I do believe 
that is the seventh hat I’ve seen you wear since I 
came home ! ” 


ii8 The Story of Honor Bright. 

“Our hat-tree does bear pretty freely this year,” 
answered Livingston. 

“ Never mind the hats,” put in Mrs. Murdoch. 
“You can’t say, Honor, but that Livy’s are always 
becoming. Tell us about the Wetherells. You say 
they are coming out next week?” 

“ Yes, bag and baggage ; and will stay until October, 
except that they’ll go to Mt. Desert a week or two in 
August. And Sadie had had a letter from Alice 
Norcross. They were to sail the twenty- third, and 
will cojne right out here. Won’t it be jolly to have 
Merrie Cutler back again ? I told her aunt Minturn 
yesterday that I could never live through another 
summer in Random without her. Mort says his 
mother has invited a cousin of his to come out and 
spend July with them. He’s at Cheshire — one of 
those fellows, I suppose, that go about all the time in 
a gray uniform trimmed with black, looking like a 
letter-carrier’s, and feeling so grand. — Where did 
you get that tidy-pattern, Mrs. Murdoch ? It’s lovely. 
Doesn’t that floss look elegant on that crimson satin? 
What is it, poppies and wheat? Oh dear! Can’t you 
throw it over here so I can see it ? ” 

Livy got up, however, and went and sat down on the 
step beside Mrs. Murdoch’s chair to examine the 
tidy. He discussed it further, and described some 


The Fly-leaf. 


119 

similar designs he had seen of late, running on about 
them in a manner that showed his complete knowledge 
of the subject. 

“ I wonder if the Littlefields will have any boarders 
this summer,” said Mrs. Murdoch presently. 

“There’s nobody come yet,” said Livy, “but he 
told me a week ago that he should have a house-full 
by the middle of the month.” 

“ Mr. Littlefield was along this morning,” observed 
Honor. “The Harrimans are here already. They 
came by the late train last night. And the Maxeys 
and Potters are coming immediately after the Fourth. 
What people can want to stay in town for on the 
Fourth of July, I can’t see. It’s bad enough in the 
country.” 

“ Dear me,” exclaimed Livingston, “that reminds 
me. We had a letter from mother yesterday. She 
and Mamie will be home to-night and she expects you 
all to come over and sit on our steps Fourth of July 
evening and see us shoot off fireworks. The gover- 
nor has ordered more than a ton to be sent out” 

“ Indeed ! ” cried a new voice, that of Angus who 
had a moment before drawn near. “ The Governor 
of Massachusetts, do you mean "i His Excellency is 
very kind, I am sure.” 

At which everybody laughed, Honor clapping her 


120 


The Story of "Honor Bright. 


hands. And Master Murdoch felt so proud and puffed 
up at having said so evidently good a thing, that for a 
whole minute longer he quite forgot what he had come 
for. 

“ Mamma,” he at length cried, “ is there a Latin 
dictionary in the library ? Ruggles wants it.” 

“ I don’t know, I am sure,” said Mrs. Murdoch. 

“Yes, there is,” spoke up Honor. “It’s on the 
lower shelf at the right of the bay-window. ‘ Andrews’ 
Latin Lexicon.’ You can get it yourself, Angus.” 

“ Do your servants have the use of your library ? ” 
inquired Livy, as Angus disappeared. 

The plain irony of this remark irritated Honor. 

“ Yes,” said she, “ they do if they want it. There 
isn’t anybody else here that is likely to use it.” 

“ Well, but,” protested Livingston, “ servants have 
their place, you know. The idea of his sending 
Angus up here to get a book from the library ! Any- 
body would think he owned the whole place. I think 
it’s rather presuming, to say the least.” 

“ Yes,” declared Mrs. Murdoch, awakened now to a 
realization of the startling fact. “ It A presuming. I 
think I had better tell Angus to say to him that — ” 

“ You had better do no such thing!” interiDosed 
Honor, warmly. “ You don’t know what he said to 
Angus. If he sent him for the. book at all, he told 


The Fly-leaf. 


121 


him to ask for it, you may depend. Ruggles is never 
disrespectful in any way. He knows his place per- 
fectly well and always keeps it. As for the book, I 
don’t know what he wants it for, but if it is to study 
and improve himself, then I honor him for it, and I’ll 
help him all I can. He shall have a dozen lexicons 
if he wants them. And I think some other people 
might profit by his example in the matter of studious- 
ness.” Honor had gradually worked herself into 
quite a little tempest of wrath, and this last, a stroke 
at poor Livy himself, was more feminine than fair. 
The latter, three weeks before, had come out of the 
entrance examinations at Harvard heavily condi- 
tioned. 

Livingston Iqoked up at her a good deal bewil- 
dered. 

“ Well, but,” he began again, “ see here, now, you 
wouldn’t want all your servants talking Latin and 
Greek, would you ? ” 

“ No,” said Honor, smiling in spite of herself. “ You 
and I couldn’t understand them at all if they did. But 
I mean every word I’ve said about Ruggles. He’s as 
good as gold ! And — ” 

Honor stopped all at once, turning red as fire. 
Ruggles himself had suddenly come around the cor- 
ner of the house. He was going toward the road. 


122 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


He lifted his hat respectfully as he passed by, and in 
his face and manner there was no indication of his 
having heard these last words, although it was diffi- 
cult to see how he could have helped it. 

The next instant Angus, with a big volume in his 
arms, came out the door, and seeing Ruggles, called 
out to him : 

“ Here, Ruggles — Ruggles ! Here’s the dictionary. 
I’ve got it for you.” 

Ruggles turned about, hearing his name, and then, 
comprehending, came back. 

“ I did not want the dictionary,” said he. “ At 
least I did not wish you to get it.” Then, seeming to 
understand from the faces about him how matters 
were, he took off his hat again, speaking to Mrs. Mur- 
doch. “ I did not send Angus for the book,” he went 
on. “ He heard me say I wished I had a Latin dic- 
tionary, and he started off before I could stop him. 
Indeed, I did not know what he meant to do.” Then, 
seeing Honor take the book from Angus and turn 
toward himself, he shook his head. “ No, Miss 
Bright, excuse me. I would rather not use the book.” 
And having thus with perfect clearness and dignity 
said his say, Ruggles turned again and walked quickly 
away before anybody thought of replying. 

Honor opened the lexicon which she still held. 


The Fly-leaf. 


123 


“ I thought so,” said she. This is my own book, 
the one I used to read Virgil with at school here. 
Angus, take this up to Ruggles’ room and leave it on 
the table. I am going to make him a present of it. 
No, you needn’t either. I’ll do it myself.” And in 
an instant this impulsive young lady was marching off 
toward the stable with her lexicon. 

“ Where is his room ^ ” Livingston inquired of Mrs. 
Murdoch. “ Oh, yes, in the barn. I believe I’ll go 
with her. I want to see what sort of a place it is. 
Honor has been boasting how she has fixed it up.” 

So he got up and followed Honor out to the stable 
and up the stairway to Ruggles’ room. Honor had 
put the lexicon on the table and was just turning to 
come away again. 

“ Why, you have fixed it up nicely, haven’t you ? ” 
said Livingston, standing and looking about him upon 
the pretty curtains, the books and the pictures on the 
walls, and the single bedstead with its snowy spread 
in the corner. “ How neat Elspeth always keeps 
everything ! ” 

“ Elspeth has nothing to do with this,” said Honor. 
“ He takes entire care of it himself.” 

“ Is that so ? ” Livy moved toward the table. “ I 
wonder if he does study Latin. Why, here’s a volume 
of ‘ Cicero’s Orations ! ’ And what’s this } ‘ Greek 


124 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


Prose Composition ! ’ he must have got these second- 
hand in town. He never brought ’em all in that 
black bag of his.” Then he picked up a smaller vol- 
ume, bound in well-worn leather and with a tarnished 
clasp upon it. “This looks like a Bible or hymn- 
book,” he ran on. “Is this wonderful driver of yours 
a preacher and singer too ? ” Then he suddenly 
uttered an exclamation. “ See here. Honor ! What 
do you make of this ? ” And he held out the book 
to her, open at its very beginning. 

Honor looked and saw, written in pencil upon 
the fly-leaf, in a big, flourishing school-boy hand, her 
own name, “ Honor Bright.” 

“ He is entirely respectful ! He is good as gold ! 
He knows his place and keeps it ! ” drawled Livy 
with triumphant enjoyment, repeating as nearly as 
he could her own words of a few minutes before. 
“ Well, I must say that is a liberty I should hardly 
take myself — scribbling your name upon the fly- 
leaves of my books. However, perhaps I’m not as 
fond of books or of — you as this accomplished coach- 
man of yours.” Livy laughed heartily, feeling that 
this time he had the best of it. 

Honor said not a word in reply. The fact of her 
name being written there struck her exactly as it had 
her companion, and she was mortified and angry. 





WHAT DO YOU MAKE OF THIS 


HONOR 







The Fly-leaf, 


127 


With a sudden impulse she seized the book and tore 
the offending fly-leaf completely out. Then, throwing 
the book itself upon the table again and taking up 
her lexicon, she moved toward the door. 

“ Come,” said she, “ we have been here long 
enough.” 

“ But what are you going to do about it ? ” asked 
Livy. “ Shall you discharge him ? ” 

“ No, indeed ! ” was the answer. “ That would 
be too ridiculous. But he will know and keep his 
place hereafter.” 

Then she led the way down-stairs again and back 
toward the house. On the way, half-mechanically, 
not knowing what else to do with it just then, she 
opened the lexicon and shut the fly-leaf away between 
its covers. 


CHAPTER IX. 


IN WHICH THE HEROINE APPEARS TO GREATER DIS- 
ADVANTAGE THAN EVER. 

W HAT A the matter with Honor? She is as 
touchy as a box of fireworks lately.” 

It was Mrs. Murdoch who asked the question, 
standing all alone in the upper hall. The simile 
was suggested' of course, by the proximity of the 
Fourth ; the words themselves by the fact that 
Honor had just favored her with a display of temper 
really quite uncalled for, answering her sharply, -and 
then going into her room and slamming the door 
behind her in a manner of which a young lady of her 
education and prospects ought to have been ashamed. 
Honor had been as irritable as she could be for the 
last two days, and this morning she was worse than 
ever. 

Mrs. Murdoch, indeed, was not the only person 
128 


The Heroifie Appeals to Great Disadvantage. 129 

made to realize this. Angus had come rushing up- 
stairs a while before to show his aunt Honor a 
Fourth of July picture that Ruggles had drawn for 
him. It was a very clever production indeed, en- 
titled “The Chinaman and the Hoodlums,” and rep- 
resenting a gentleman of dress and features unmis- 
takably Celestial running with all his might before a 
bunch of exploding fire-crackers tied to his queue, 
while a group of street arabs stood regarding their 
work with glee, and a second Celestial looked on in 
amazed terror from a door near by over which the 
word “ Washee ” was conspicuously posted. Angus 
had come to Honor first with his picture, feeling sure 
she would enjoy it with him ; and the poor fellow 
had been really troubled when she declined even to 
look at it. 

“ I don’t care to see any of Ruggles’s pictures,” she 
had said coldly. “ And you musn’t, bother me now.” 

And still later this same morning, Livingston too 
came in for his share of ill-treatment. Honor had 
taken her “Atlantic” and gone down to the Nook; 
and Livy, coming over a while after and learning her 
whereabouts from Donald who was at work before 
the house, followed her there. She was sitting on a 
rock near the hammock with the magazine unopened 
upon her lap. She returned his pleasant “good 


130 


The Story of HoJior Bright. 


morning ” in a tone and manner far from encourag- 
ing ; but Livy did not notice it at all. He was al- 
ways deliciously unconscious of other people’s moods. 

“ So here is where you are ? ” he began. 

“ Yes ; I thought I would like to be by myself.” 

Livy laughed. “ That is a pretty broad hint,” ob- 
served he. 

“ Is it } ” said Honor. 

“ But I never take hints,” he went on serenely. 
Then he sat down in the hammock. “ What a pretty 
pattern that muslin is ! By the way, have you seen 
this new style of dress — Wamsutta or, more ele- 
gantly, Jeddo crape. They’re of a sort of unbleached 
material that comes very cheap — eight or ten cents a 
yard — and made up over colored cambric. Why 
don’t you have one before they get to be common ? 
You could make it up over red. They’re really quite 
^the thing, just now.” 

“ Thank you,” said Honor curtly. “ If I am to 
have a man-milliner, I should prefer Worth.” 

“That’s just the way,” complained Livingston. 
“ Women dress for men’s eyes altogether, and yet 
they’ll never take a suggestion from them about dress. 
Speaking of Worth, I know several ladies who have 
their dresses all made in Paris. You remember my 
cousin, Mrs. Manton ? You should have seen — ” 






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The Heroine Appears to Great Disadvantage. 133 


“ Livy,” interrupted Honor, “ excuse me for break- 
ing in upon you, but do you know what Joaquin Mil- 
ler said once to a young lady ? He told her she ?nust 
tell some lies, for she talked so much that there 
wasn’t truth enough to last her.” 

“ I suppose you mean by that that I talk too much, 
said Livy, good-naturedly. “ But somebody has got 
to talk. Just think how stupid it would be if we all 
sat in our chairs staring at each other and saying 
nothing. And if you think I talk too much, I am 
equally sure that you talk too little. Why, I’ve known 
you to sit for half an hour, thinking all the time and 
not saying a single word ! One would think you had 
something to conceal and were afraid you would let it 
out if you opened your mouth.” 

“ Nobody will ever suspect you of anything of the 
kind,” retorted Honor. “ I doubt if you ever had a 
single thought in all your life, that you did not in- 
stantly give it to the world.” 

“ Oh yes, I have,” declared Livy. “ I was thinking, 
for instance, of your Crichton of a coachman all the 
way down here, but I haven’t told you what I 
thought.” 

“ It’s just as well. I don’t at all care to hear.” 

“ I wonder if he is getting out his Latin this morn- 
ing.” 


^34 


The Story of Ho7ior Bright. 


“We’ll talk about somebody else, if you please,” 
Honor said in a distinct sort of way. 

“ Have you succeeded in teaching him his place 
yet ? ” 

Honor raised her chin a little, but made no reply. 
Her silence was dangerous, if Livy had but known 
it. 

“ From what Angus tells me,” he went heedlessly 
on, “you find plenty tc talk about with Ruggles, when 
you are out riding. Really, Honor, you make too 
much of him. You’ll never teach him his place in 
that way. Take my advice and — ” 

Honor was on her feet now, magnificent with 
wrath. 

“ Livingston Mauran ! ” she cried. “ When all the 
rest of the people in the world are dead save you and 
1, and all the books are burned up, and I myself have 
lost every vestige of sense and reason, then possibly 
1 may come \o you for advice; but until then I wish 
you would keep it to yourself ! As for what Angus 
tells you, I am surprised that you, who claim to be 
a gentleman, should have condescended to make 
him your spy ! Now, you’ll excuse me, but if I can’t 
be alone here, I must go elsewhere.” 

And suiting the action to her last words. Honor 
turned and left the place. 


I'he Herome Appears to Great Disadvantage. 135 

“ Now, that was well done ! ” murmured Livy, fan- 
ning himself with his straw hat. “ How her eyes did 
flash ! I wonder if she singed her eyelashes ! ” 

There was one other person still whom Honor was 
destined to meet while in her present amiable mood. 
This was Ruggles himself. He came down the walk 
from the house just as she reached the stables. He 
lifted his hat, and bade her a pleasant good morning 
very much as Livy had done. He was in an es- 
pecially happy frame of mind to-day. 

Honor, however, merely inclined her head in ac- 
knowledgment of his salutation. Then, before they 
were fairly by each other she halted. 

“ Ruggles,” said she deliberately, “ I would prefer 
that the servants about the place should always wait 
until they are spoken to before they speak to me.” 

That was all she said, but it was enough. Ruggles 
stood staring after her, hurt and amazed, a deep flush 
showing itself through the tan on his face. He had 
felt that for two days past Honor had been treating 
him with coolness, but he had not thought much about 
it. Conscious all the time of his real position, any 
ordinary snubbing he might receive in his assumed 
character he was prepared to take with equanimity, 
and it generally only amused him. But this that 
Honor had just said to him, was so uncalled for, as it 


136 


The Story of Honor Bright, 


seemed to him, and so evidently meant to hurt him 
and put him down, that he felt it through and through. 
To his pain and amazement instantly succeeded a 
feeling of pride and indignation, and with a sudden 
impulse he took a step forward as if to follow 
her. 

“ Miss Bright,” he said. 

She must have heard him, but she paid no atten- 
tion. 

The next instant he stopped again, glad that she 
had not. It gave him time to think better of his im- 
pulse ; and he turned and went on to the barn, gnaw- 
ing his lip and resolving that she should have no oc- 
casion to reprove him for familiarity in future. 

As for Honor, she little knew how near she 
had been at that moment to hearing Thomas Ruggles 
give an account of himself that would have astonished 
her. 

And now what shall I say here of my heroine ? For 
there comes over me at this moment as never before 
so far in the story this feeling I have spoken of, that 
she needs apologizing for. Ruggles had said senten- 
tiously to himself as he went on to the harness-room 
and took down a bridle that needed oiling, that his 
mistress had “ made a goose of herself,” and I cer- 
tainly must acknowledge that the phrase expressed 


The Heroine Appears to Great Disadvantage. 137 

the fact of the case tolerably well. And I fancy the 
intelligent reader thinking of the matter in pretty 
much the same way, I can almost hear at this mo- 
ment the words “silly,” “snobbish,” “ill-tempered,” 
and others like them coming from lips that will curl 
above this page sometime hence. Yet, in spite of this, 
I shall not turn back to alter a skigle word I have 
said heretofore in praise of Honor Bright ; and I still 
believe that every reader will be her true admirer 
when the story is finished. 

A word further as to what was the matter with 
Honor. To speak plainly, I suppose that Ruggies 
was the matter. This is not a love-story. There will 
not be a particle of love-making in it from beginning 
to end. Indeed, for that matter, it will end exactly 
where a love-story would properly commence. Honor 
Bright was not in love with her coachman and not 
likely to be. Pray do not think it. And yet, on the 
other hand (and this is perfectly natural,) she was by 
no means as indifferent to him as she herself sup- 
posed. 

By Ruggles’s coming she had suddenly been brought 
into contact with a person of her own age who was, in 
point of fact, more congenial to her than any one else 
about her. She was with this person several hours at 
least of every day, and they were the hours when she 


13S The Story of Honor Bright. 

felt freest and enjoyed herself most. He was manly, 
intelligent, fine. She may not have used these words 
of him, or even distinctly realized that he was all this; 
but she had felt it, consciously or unconsciously, from 
the first, for she was fine too. All this being so, it is 
not difficult to conceive that she should have come 
gradually to attach a certain value to his good opin- 
ion, and be affected more or less by whatever seemed 
to be his frame of mind toward her. Then, in the 
midst of all, there suddenly comes up a fact which it 
is impossible to doubt or explain and which, though 
simple enough in itself, seems necessarily to indicate 
qualities — vanity and presumption at least — which 
she had not believed Ruggles to possess. Mortified 
and offended, she could not help showing, and indeed 
wished to show him, that she looked upon him as an 
inferior who needed to be taught who and what he 
was. And yet, all the while he being in reality just 
what she had first believed him, her instincts still in- 
sisted upon his worth and gave her the constant feel- 
ing that she was doing him an injustice and appearing 
herself in any but a favorable light. This, so far as I 
am able to analyze it, is what was the “ matter ” with 
Honor. She was displeased with herself ; and people 
who are that are generally displeased with everybody 
else. 


The Heroine Appears to Great Disadvafitage. 139 

Honor felt better, however, after lunch and a little 
nap in her room. She met Angus as she was coming 
down-stairs between two and three o’clock. That 
young gentleman summoned all his dignity and was 
going by her without a word, but she took his face in 
her hands. ^ 

“ Angus,” said she smiling, “ I was real rude to 
you this morning. I’m sorry. Will you forgive me ?” 

Angus hesitated without returning the smile. 

“ Will you take me to ride with you if I do ? ” 
asked he, disposed to make terms. 

“ I’m not going to ride to-day. But we’ll take a 
walk together, if you like.” 

“ All right,” said Angus. “ I forgive you then. A 
gentleman always accepts an apology. I can’t show 
you the picture now, though. I told Ruggles about 
it, and he said if I’d tear it up he’d make me abetter 
one sometime. He can draw like a brick.” 

“Never mind the picture,” answered Honor. 
“ And I don’t think a brick could draw at all. Now, 
where shall we go ? I’ve a basket of things for 
Granny Zeb. Shall we go over there ? ” 

Granny Zeb was an old negro woman who lived on 
a cross-road over south of Random Pond. She was 
very poor, and Honor often took her provisions or 
clothing. The old lady had one child, a good- 


140 The Story of Honor Bright. 

natured but as yet quite worthless youngster, “full 
of the Old Jim Crow,” as she herself described him. 
Honor and Angus had a pleasant walk across the 



GRANNY ZEB. 


fields and along the shore of the pond, and made 
quite a call upon the old negro woman. From there 
they made their way across to the cottage of Miss 


The Heroine Appears to Great Disadvantage. 141 

Prudence Withers, a maiden lady living all by 
herself, on whom Honor had for some time been in- 
tending to call. Here they stopped for something 
more than half an hour. As they at length moved to 
go, Angus, with characteristic frankness, complained 
of being hungry (he had missed his lunch that 
day), and Miss Withers brought him a generous piece 
of apple-pie which, she told him, was made of apples 
from a tree a hundred years old, a fact which Master 
Angus pondered deeply as he devoured the pie. 

It was half-past-four by Honor’s watch when at last 
they turned homeward. Their path would still lie 
mostly across the lots (it would have been a long way 
around by the road), but in a direction somewhat dif- 
ferent from that in which they had come. 

After leaving the road, they walked slowly down a 
long lane, at the end of which they could see a pair 
of bars. The afternoon was warm but very lovely. 
There was no sign of rain yet, and the vegetation 
around was beginning to have a burned look. Over 
in a field beyond them two men were loading some 
hay, and from farther off still came up the sound of a 
mowing-machine. One of the men on the wagon 
shouted . out something as they walked along ; but 
they did not understand, and indeed were by no 
means certain he was addressing them at all. And 



142 The Story of Ho 7 ior Bright. 


presently they were out of sight and hearing. What 
the man had called out was, that there was a bull 
down in the next lot that they had better keep clear 
of ; but his companion had said that there was a sign 
nailed upon the bar-way which would warn them, so 
the shout was not repeated. 

Unfortunately however, when Honor and Angus, 
continuing their way in blissful ignorance of the vi- 
cinity of any monster of whom they need stand in 
fear, got to the bar-way, there was no sign there. If 
they had come down the same lane the day before, 
they would have seen upon the post a board on 
which was rather unskilfully painted the words, 
“ There is a bull in here that is dangerous. Keep out.'' 
But some mischievous boys, only the night before, 
had taken this board and afhxed it to the front door 
of Farmer Landers himself, a red-faced, not over 
popular old fellow who owned the bull. And the warn- 
ing had not as yet been returned to its proper place. 



CHAPTER X, 


WHEREIN TRUTH IS NO LESS EXCITING THAN FICTION. 
HE reader however has, I suppose, so far the ad- 



X vantage of the heroine and Master Murdoch as 
to be by this time fully warned that a no less ignoble and 
commonplace object than a bull is almost immedi- 
ately to appear upon the scene of this story. I have 
thus carefully sought to announce the fact before- 
hand, because I feel the necessity of preparing the 
reader for it and, for my own sake, making something 
of an apology. Adventures with bulls are so exceed- 
ingly uncommon in real country life and so almost 
inevitable in stories of country life! Yet i am cer- 
tain that the fair-minded reader would not have me 
omit any truth from my narrative simply because 
that truth is not as strange as fiction. If so unrea- 
sonable and determined an animal as a bull insists 
upon coming into this story, I really do not think I 
am called upon to stand in his way. 

The bar-way formed the entrance to a large pas- 


144 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


ture, with nothing particular to be seen in it save a 
clump of trees away over at its lowest end under 
which a single beast of the field seemed to be feeding 
in peaceful solitude. Angus observed that “ there 
was a cow down there,” but Honor set off toward 
the upper corner of the lot quite untroubled. Had 
the animal been nearer, she might have felt a little 
nervous. All girls are, I believe, more or less afraid 
of cows. But this cow was too far off to give her 
any apprehension. 

They walked quietly along, and had traversed some- 
thing more than half the distance diagonally across 
the lot, when Angus suddenly discovered a human 
figure standing at that moment on top the stone wall 
near the point toward which their steps were bent. 

“ I do believe there’s Livy coming to meet us,” 
said he. 

Honor stopped short and bit her lip. 

“No,” she replied, “it is Ruggles.” 

“He’s running,” cried Angus. “Come, let’s us 
run too ! ” And he caught Honor by the dress. 

“ No,” said Honor coldly. And then all at once 
something suggested a different interpretation of the 
actions of the approaching figure. Ruggles was 
waving his arms about and shouting in a manner 
quite extraordinary. 


















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Truth is no Less Exciting than Fiction. 1 47 

“ What is he saying ? ” asked the girl in sudden 
alarm. And half instinctively they looked behind 
them. Then Honor uttered a little cry and turned 
pale. Down yonder, by the clump of trees, the 
“ cow ” was no longer to be seen ; but a great deal 
nearer to them an animal unmistakably a bull, short- 
horned and square-shouldered, was coming down upon 
them at a gallop, his head up and his tail standing 
out behind in a manner that left no doubt of the ex- 
istence in his mind of a definite and probably hostile 
purpose. 

“ See here ! ” screamed Angus. “ Tain ’t a cow at 
all ! It’s a bull 

Honor’s face was as white as it well could be con- 
sidering her complexion. She realized the situation 
at once and fully. She was badly frightened — who 
would not have been ! — but her good sense and her 
nerves did not desert her. If they remained where 
they then were, the bull would be upon them in a 
few' moments. Their only chance was to run for the 
wall ; and already the animal was no farther from 
them than they from the nearest point of safety. She 
seized Angus by the hand. 

“ Angus,” said she in a low intense tone, “we must 
get to the wall if we can. He may be dangerous.” 

“Come on, then,” cried Angus, his voice pitched 


148 The Story of Honor Bright. 

high with excitement. Then with a determined jerk, 
he freed his hand. “ Let go my hand, though. I 
can run better and so can you.” Angus was more 
of a man than she gave him credit for, or else he did 
not realize the danger. 

Then olf they started, turning abruptly half to the 
right toward a place where the wall seemed to be 
broken a little, and fairly flying over the ground at a 
pace that Honor at least felt with a sinking at the 
heart that she could not possibly keep up. 

And all the while, as she ran, her mind was 
thoroughly active. She wondered wildly whether it 
would be her fate to be tossed or to be trampled to 
death, if they were overtaken. She thought of the 
scarlet sash that she wore ; and, remembering that 
bulls were said to be aggravated by anything red, she 
mechanically sought to unloose it from her waist, 
presently desisting, however, as it occurred to her that, 
if she retained it, it might serve to draw the animal’s 
attention from Angus to herself. Glancing eagerly 
toward Ruggles, she saw that he had changed his di- 
rection so as to intercept them, and that he was al- 
ready quite near them. And then she turned her 
head a single instant over her shoulder, and saw with 
terror that the bull too had swerved a little to cut 
them off, and she could now hear with a dreadful 


Truth is 7io Less Exciting thafi Fiction. 


149 


distinctness the sound of his. heavy hoofs as he came 
bounding on. She looked straight ahead again 
towards the broken place in the wall. O, how could 
they" ever reach it in time ! 

Suddenly Ruggles was close beside them, his hat 
off and his hair flying, breathing hard but slackening 
his pace now to accommodate it to theirs. He put 
out his hand and took Honor’s sunshade from her, 
closing it as he ran. He kept it in his hand however. 
One does not throw away even so frail a weapon at 
such a time, when it is the only one. As for Honor, 
she felt at once how much more easily she could run 
without it, and wondered she had not thought to close 
it. 

“ You must run faster than this. Miss Bright ! ” 
Ruggles’s voice was hard and collected, and the words 
were a command rather that a suggestion. Then he 
looked toward their pursuer. “ He’s getting pretty 
near. Don’t worry. I’ll manage him, if he catches 
us. Only run. You must run, Miss Bright.” 

“ I cannot ! ” There was a sort of bitterness in 
Honor’s heart toward him as she gasped the words. 
He ran so easily himself. Did he not know that her 
limbs seemed at every moment about to give way be- 
neath her, and that it seemed to her that she could 
not draw another breath? And the wall was still 


150 The Story of Honor Bright. 

several rods away. How utterly useless it was for 
her to try to reach it ! 

“ You must help Angus and get him to the wall,” 
she managed to say. And then she would have sunk 
down and left them to go on without her. But Rug- 
gles all at once took hold of her wrist with a grip 
that seemed to communicate some of his strength to 
hers. 

“ I shall help youf he said. “ Angus will do well 
enough. Won’t you, Angus ? ” 

And Angus, cap in hand, nodded cheerily without 
looking round. He ran longer races than this every 
day of his life, and he was in perfect training. And 
so Honor, with Ruggles’s strong hold dragging her on 
faster than she could possibly have gone herself, 
gathered new courage and struggled on. 

Thus they ran, and it was moments rather than 
minutes that were passing ; and now the wall was al- 
most within their reach. Only a few rods more be- 
tween them and it ; and then somehow to climb the 
wall and they were safe. The thought was fresh hope 
and strength. And yet, there were those horrible 
footsteps, so near them now that it seemed the next 
instant must bring the pursuer upon them, and Honoi 
fancied she could almost hear the monster’s breathing. 
It seemed to her as though she must look over her 


Truth is no Less Exciting than Fiction. 15 1 

- shoulder once more ; but Ruggles spoke again almost 
fiercely : 

“ Don’t look back ! For your life, don’t look back ! 
It’s only a few feet farther, now ! Now mind what I 
say to you! You and Angus must get over the wall 
for yourselves — as fast as you can. Don’t wait for 
each other. It won’t do I Angus, do you under- 
stand ? You must run the rest of it yourself. Miss 
Bright. It’s only a step. I beg of you not to give up ! ” 

He dropped her wrist suddenly, and Honor felt 
rather than saw that he Ixad halted and turned upon 
the enemy. 

Once more she summoned strength and resolution 
and staggered on. Then the wall was right there 
before them, Angus was on its top with a triumphant 
shout, she herself, she scarcely knew how, dragged 
herself upon and over it, and then, with a great cry 
she sank exhausted to the earth. 

As for Ruggles, he had halted some thirty feet 
from the wall and turned squarely on the enemy, with 
no thought of himself in any way but with a grim re- 
solve that the bull should be stopped at any cost. 
What the young fellow did was done so quickly and 
naturally that it seemed almost nothing ; but it was 
really a very clever and courageous performance and 
entirely successful. 


152 The Story of Honor Bright. 

The enraged animal was not ten feet away when the 
lad turned to meet him. Ruggles caught sight of a 
large stone on the ground at his feet. He flung down 
the sunshade, and seizing this stone with both hands, 
lifted it high above his head. Then in almost the 
same instant, he brought it forward and hurled it 
with all his strength straight at the bit of hard, flat 
forehead that now, held low down, was close upon 
him. Then he leaped lightly to one side ; the bull 
rushed heavily by and then turned, stunned and 
bellowing ; and before the animal could recover from 
the shock, Ruggles was running like a deer for 
the wall, which he cleared at a jump, and halted be- 
side Honor herself who was but just getting up from 
where she had fallen. 

“ Good for you, Ruggles ! ” cried Angus who had 
been quite alive to the whole transaction. “ I reckon 
you gave him a good head-ache ! ” The bull was 
now marching up and down in assumed unconcern 
on the^other side of the wall. 

“ Yes,” answered Ruggles, “ I reckon I did. 
When we get to the house we’ll have Elspeth make 
him a strong cup of tea. That will cure him.” He 
spoke lightly, for he perceived that Honor, still 
panting and trembling, was about to speak ; and he 


Truth is no Less Exciting than Fiction. 153 

somehow wished she might not. Honor was not to 
be prevented however. 

“You have saved us from — from a dreadful fate, 
Ruggles,” said she. Her voice was faint, and she 
as yet had scarcely breath enough to speak with. 
“ I shall never forget it. O, if anything had happened 
to Angus ! I should never have forgiven myself.” 

Ruggles had sobered as she spoke; and he now 
stood in silence, his eyes cast down, not in confusion 
but as though he were thinking. And indeed he was. 
He was thinking of what she had said to him that 
morning in the carriage path. He was proud too, 
and it was his turn now instead of hers. He was 
glad that he had been able to serve her and glad of 
her gratitude, but he would not show it. 

“ It was nothing at all,” said he in a moment. 
“ I’ve handled dozens of ’em down in New Mexico. 
If you don’t want anything more. Miss Bright, I’ll go 
back now. The bull can’t get over the wall.” 

And so, as she said nothing further, he went off, 
carelessly whistling, along the path. 

Honor, taking Angus by the hand, presently fol- 
lowed. And as they went along, she charged the 
latter not to mention the 'afternoon’s adventure at the 
house. Mrs. Murdoch would never let them go out 
together again, she said, if she heard of it. Probably, 


154 The Story of Honor Bright. 

beyond this, Honor had a feeling that she did not 
want to have the affair talked about at home. 

Angus readily promised to keep it secret, and was 
so mindful of his word that when asked by his father 
at dinner what wonderful adventures he had met with, 
he contented himself with gravely narrating how, over 
at Miss Withers’s, he had been treated to a piece of 
apple-pie that was a hundred years old, an assertion 
which provoked not a little merriment. 

The Fourth turned out to be a very quiet day at 
Hollownook after all. Mr. Murdoch was called away 
to Vermont by a telegram that came while he was at 
breakfast ; and one of Mrs. Murdoch’s sick headaches 
kept Honor in the house all day, and prevented their 
going over to the Maurans in the evening. 

Ruggles, too, seemed disposed to keep his room ; 
so that upon Master Angus alone fell the duty 
of celebrating for the family. It is scarcely neces- 
sary to say that the young gentleman bore the burden 
cheerfully and acquitted himself with distinguished 
credit. 

On the afternoon of the fifth there came a dis- 

/ . 

patch from Mr. Murdoch directing Ruggles to join 
him at Brattleboro immediately, as he wanted to buy 
a horse. So the coachman packed up and set off 


Truth is no Less Exciting than Fiction. 


155 


early the next morning. And as, after helping Mr. 
Murdoch select the horse, he drove the animal home 
by road, it was almost a week before he got back to 
Hollownook again. 

Then, somehow or other, with the gayer times that 
seemed to have fallen upon the place, and a sort of 
coldness that had come to be between his young mis- 
tress and himself, Ruggles began to feel that he was 
really learning his “place ” at last. And so he came 
and went about the place, a model servant, careful to 
perform all his duties, always respectful, grave and 
silent. And in his heart all the while he kept and 
cherished the great plans he had formed for him- 
self. 

As for Honor, she felt this change too, and it irri- 
tated and troubled her. But she was too proud to 
show it. Besides she had a great many other things 
to think of just now. She had not forgotten the ad- 
venture with the bull, and she had sincerely meant to 
say more of it to Ruggles. But there never came a 
time when it seemed possible to do so ; and so the 
days passed by and presently the incident, as she 
looked back upon it, seemed to her *more like a ter- 
rible dream than a reality. 


CHAPTER XI. 


DENSIE DREW. 

D ENSIE Drew was a school-friend of Honor’s. 

When the latter first went to Bishopsthorpe 
and was introduced to a group of other girls a few 
minutes after her arrival, one of them came forward 
and claimed acquaintance at once. She had known 
an Honor Bright once upon a time, she said, — a 
young gentleman at Trellisdale, Massachusetts. Was 
he any relation of Honor’s ? And Honor, very glad 
to meet somebody who had known the Honor Bright 
whose name and inheritance had fallen to her, and 
of whom she had always wished to hear something 
more, listened eagerly to all that Densie, glibly run- 
ning on, could tell her of him — how he had been an 
old “ flame ” of hers at their young folks’ parties, 
always calling her up in “ Post-Oflice ” and slapping 
her hands in “ Copenhagen,” and asking to see her 
156 




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Densie Drew. 


159 


home afterwards. And she had been so shocked 
when she heard of his being lost at sea. He had 
written some lines in her album when she left Trellis- 
dale which seemed almost prophetic. Indeed, he 
must have had it in mind — his running away to sea 
— when he wrote them. She had them yet and 
would show them to Honor some time. And then 
Honor told more fully her own relation to the lad ; 
and the conversation was the beginning of an inti- 
macy between the two girls which later became a 
decided friendship. This was not the less natural 
perhaps, because they were in almost every respect 
quite unlike. Densie was fair instead of dark, rather 
undersized, always had a bit of blue about her, was 
sprightly and talkative, fond of society and a hater 
of books. 

Miss Drew was to come on the thirteenth. Rug- 
gles, the coachman, had looked forward to her arrival 
with a good deal of interest and some concern. For 
the first time, he was to meet somebody in his new 
life who had known him in his old. Would she 
recognize him I Jhat was the question that troubled 
him. Sometimes he said to himself that it was im- 
possible — he was at least twelve inches taller than 
he had been three years ago, and was entirely changed 
in every way ; and then, again, he remembered what 


i6o 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


a shrewd and capable young person the Densie Drew 
he had known >vas, and, complete as was the disguise 
time had given him, he felt sure her bright eyes must 
see through it. 

At any rate, however, there was nothing to be 
done but to wait and see. And even if she recognized 
him, why, he was doing nothing that he was ashamed 
of. Only he would have been truly sorry to have 
had the facts of the case come out just now. Indeed' 
he had pretty well settled in his mind a purpose that 
they never should come out at all. Ruggles was a 
strange fellow. What if he should take it into his 
obstinate head to leave Honor Bright in undisturbed 
possession of his name and his money, and try his 
hand at making a name and fortune for himself ? 
He had meant all that he had said when they were 
on Mizpah together, and it would be just like him to 
do such a thing. 

His suspense however was over very quickly when 
at last the time came ; and a single minute after the 
train had stopped semed to settle the whole matter, 
and assure him that his fears were^roundless. 

Densie came across the platform with Honor a lit- 
tle in advance of Mr. Murdoch, who was carrying 
her bags and bundles. Ruggles knew her at once ; 
for although she was grown some, her demonstrative 


Densie Drew, 


i6i 

ways were just the same. She gave Honor’s “ turn- 
out” a quick, critical look as she came up. That 
was the way she always used to look at things the 
first time. And an expression of entire approval 
showed itself in her face as she did so, especially as 
her glance dwelt a single instant on the trim-looking 
young fellow who sat holding the reins. This was 
the “ new coachman ” that Honor had written her 
about. Then she put her foot upon the step and 
sprang into the phaeton unassisted. As for Ruggles, 
the single instant that his eyes had met hers had, at 
least for the present, quite set his mind at rest. It 
was plain that^she thought him a stranger. 

Miss Drew, born to rule wherever she was, lost no 
time in asserting her sway at Hollownook and defin- 
ing her policy. Honor had written her that she 
would find it very quiet at Random — nothing to do 
but eat and sleep and read and ride, a state of things 
that would have quite appalled Miss Densie save for 
her entire confidence in hei; own ability to remedy it. 
She at once raised her voice for Reform. 

“ ril set things going,” she said to Honor, as they 
went up-stairs that night. And she kept her friend 
awake for a whole hour, questioning her as to the 
number and capabilities of the young people in the 


i 62 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


neighborhood, and discussing plans for bringing them 
together and making the best of them. 

Miss Densie took Angus aside immediately after 
breakfast the next morning, and showed him a paper 
of chocolates. 

“ These are very nice,” said she. “ I got them at 
Copeland’s yesterday, eighty cents a pound. I am 
very fond of them, too. But I am going to divide 
them with you. It’s because I like you, you know. 
Now, you know Livingston Mauran ? ” — Densie did 
not know him but she meant to. “ I want you to go 
over and tell him that he is wanted here. Don’t say 
anything about who sent you. Do you understand } ” 

Angus nodded and took the chocolates, bestowing 
a rather funny look upon Densie at the same time. 

“ I’ll tell him,” said he. “ And, do you know, I 
don’t much care if Honor does like Livy. I think 
you’re a gra’ deal prettier’n she is, any way.” 

And then, perhaps fearing he might say too much 
and too far commit himself, he'bit a big chocolate in 
two and ran off to do his errand. 

Then the young lady, already having formed one ad- 
vantageous alliance this morning, went down the path 
to where Donald was at work, and talked to him so 
charmingly and seemed so pleased with his flowers 
that the old fellow, although at first anything but 


Densie Drew. 


163 


gracious, ended by bestowing upon her several of his 
choicest blossoms and most genial smiles. 

She did not linger here however. Her alert eye 
had discovered still another world to conquer a little 
farther on where Ruggles was washing one of the 
carriages in front of the stable. He had his coat off ; 
and his head was bare, although the sun was already 
quite hot. Densie came up and stood watching 
him while he squirted some water upon one of the 
wheels. 

“ Good morning,” said she at length. Silence was 
not her forte. 

“ Good morning,” answered Ruggles, taking his 
eyes off his work only for an instant. 

“ Ar’nff you afraid of getting sunstmck, with your 
hat off ? ” asked she. 

“That’s all nonsense,” said Ruggles shortly. 
Then, with a second pail of water he began sponging 
his wheel. “ Why,” he went on, “ sun and air are 
good for the head. They’re the best ‘ hair restoratives ’ 
in the world. I knew a man who went to California 
in ‘ forty-nine ’ perfectly bald, and whose hair, from 
his digging in a trench bare-headed, came out thick 
as ever.” 

Densie laughed heartily. 

“It’s a true story,” insisted Ruggles. “At least. 


164 The Story of Honor Bright. 

they tell it so over in Golden. And it stands to 
reason, it’s wearing hats that makes men bald. Who 
ever saw a bald-headed Indian .? — or a woman either, 
hardly.” 

Densie laughed again, much amused. Then she 
continued, watching him curiously : 

“Do you know,” said she presently, “that you 
give me, somehow, the impression that I have seen 
you before ? I thought of it last night, as we were 
driving over, but now that 1 see you with your hat off, 
it is stronger yet. Of course, I never have seen you 
before.” 

The last sentence was not uttered at all doubtfully. 
Ruggles smiled. 

“I’ve lived in the West,” said he, “for a very 
long while. You’ve never been out there, I siq> 
pose.” 

“ It must be that you remind me of somebody. 
Who it be ? It is so provoking to be reminded 
of somebody you know in this way and yet, to save 
you, not being able to think who it is ! ” 

Miss Densie paused, still searching her memory to 
recall the person whom Ruggles resembled. The 
latter all the while kept doggedly about his work, 
feeling that her eyes were upon him. It vexed as 
well as alarmed him that he should be subjected to 


Densie Drew. 


165 

this ordeal, and he did not much care if he appeared 
even a little rude. So, when she went on a moment 
later, talking of something else, he scarcely troubled 
himself to reply at all ; and before long, rather dis- 
gusted with what seemed to her his stupidity, D.ensie 
left him. It was no use talking to a young man who 
wouldn’t even look at her. Besides, she had caught 
sight of a person whom she took to be Livingston 
Maurap, coming up the drive. 

She went back and met him in front of the house, 
introducing herself with a distance and dignity which 
he readily imitated, but which neither of them kept 
up long, for when Honor came out a little later she 
found them seated on the steps together, talking and 
laughing away with the ease and volubility of old 
acquaintances. 

“ We have settled it all,” Densie hastened to tell 
her, “ about the Archery Club that you and I were 
talking of. Mr. Mauran came over in obedience to your 
message, and he has already given me a list of every 
young man and maiden who is eligible for the pur- 
pose. Now, dear, if you’ll get us some paper, I’ll 
write the notices at once. We are going to have 
them all meet here this afternoon — for a sort of 
preliminary meeting, you know, and to organize. 


i66 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


We’ll want them to get their bows at once, so as to 
begin to practise.” 

And Honor, not a little bewildered by all this (for 
it was the first she had heard either of the Archery 
Club or of sending for Livy,) but well aware of Den- 
sie’s decided talent for business, and quite submissive 
to her wislies, went into the house and got the paper ; 
and notes were at once written to something less 
than twenty young people round about, requesting 
them to come together at Hollownook at half past 
two that afternoon for the purpose of forming an 
Archery Club. 

“ They ought to be sent out at once,” urged Den- 
sie, “ else the gentlemen will all be off somewhere 
else. We must have them anyway.” 

“ Ruggles will take them out as soon as he has 
harnessed for us,” said Honor. “ I spoke to him 
quite a while ago.” 

“ Isn’t Ruggles going to drive us ? ” asked Densie. 

“ No. He will take Douglas and carry the notes. 
We can drive Zampa very well without him.” Zampa 
was the new horse. 

Densie made a mouth at this ; but Livingston 
highly approved. 

“ I’m glad,” cried he, “that Honor has found out 
at last she can go somewhere without that fellow. 


THE ARCHERY-CLUB 











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Densie Drezv. 169 

It’s nothing but Ruggles, Ruggles, Ruggles, the 
whole time.” 

Ruggles at that moment drove up with the phaeton. 
He could hardly have heard anything of Livy’s re- 
mark save the echo of his own name, but he appar- 
ently guessed at the rest. 

“Zampa is rather uppish this morning, Miss 
Bright,” said he as he jumped down. “ You had 
better drive him yourself.” 

At which pointed suggestion Honor smiled in 
spite of herself, and Livy, not knowing what to say, 
said nothing. 

Ruggles stood looking after them as they drove off, 
the notes Honor had given him in his hands. There 
was a little feeling of bitterness in his heart. Here 
were these people, really not a whit better than he 
was, going off to enjoy themselves, and he must stay 
behind and do a servant’s work. His self-chosen po- 
sition had more than once, of late, seemed irksome 
to him. However, he quickly threw the feeling off 
now. He had a future before him that he believed 
in, a future far grander and worthier than was likely, 
for instance, ever to come to Livingston Mauran. 
He went and saddled Douglas and did his errands ; 
and then, hurrying back to his room, plunged head 
and ears again into the conjugation of a {ai verb. 


1 70 The Story of Honor Bright. 

And before Honor came back from her ride, he had 
learned it by heart and was stretched upon his back 
fast asleep, dreaming, for aught I know, that he had 
grown up tall as a lightning-rod, and been “ struck by 
presidential lightning.” 

In the afternoon the archery meeting took place. 
Almost everybody came who had been invited, and 
as they came up they were introduced to Miss Drew 
and, when necessary, to each other. No better op- 
portunity is likely to occur of presenting them to the 
reader. Of Ramdon people there were the two 
Browning girls, Merrie Cutler, W aitie Pope ; and, for 
gentlemen, Frank Plummer and Mr. Merrick, the 
school-teacher. These, with Honor and Livy, made 
eight Random people. Of the summer visitors, 
Sadie Wetherell and her brother Mort came first, 
bringing Allie Norcross, a friend of Sadie, and their 
cousin, young Rodman, a quiet, gentlemanly little 
fellow who did not have on his school uniform at all. 
Then from Littlefield’s came the Harrimans, Miss 
Harriman and Miss Hope Harriman, and their 
brother Ray, with Sam Potter in their company. The 
latter was a tall, rather dandified young gentleman, 
with a very high collar and a very tightly buttoned 
coat, who never ventured away from home without his 
cane. There were two others — the Maxey girls, 


Densie Drezu. 


171 


who had sent their regrets, but would be on hand at 
the next meeting. All these, with Densie Drew and 
Angus (whom Densie had promised he should be al- 
lowed to join,) made up twenty, the number Miss 
Drew had declared to be most desirable for an 
Archery club. 


CHAPTER XII. 


MISS DREW UNEARTHS A MYSTERY. 

EXT morning a driving north-east rain-storm had 



1 ^ set in. For the better part of three days and 
nights it rained steadily, making it impossible to get 
anywhere or do anything out of doors. Miss Densie 
Drew was almost beside herself. She grew quite 
white and thin with “ nothing to do but stay in the 
house and mope.” Livingston Mauran, Angus, and 
the coachman, each contributed what he could to her 
amusement. She played duets with Livy on the 
piano, notably “ Chopsticks ; ” she at intervals de- 
voted herself so . assiduously to Master Angus that 
that young person was quite bewitched, and lay 
awake each night for at least fifteen minutes thinking 
about her; and between showers, at times when 
Ruggles was likely to be out of his room, she would, 
along with Angus, daintily pick her way to the stable 












DENSIE DREW. 


173 












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Miss Dreiu Unearths a Mystery. 175 

and amuse herself with what she called drawing him 
out. She had insisted upon it that Ruggles was 
bashful. He seemed afraid of looking at her and, 
although not disrespectful, answered her always 
almost shortly and with hesitation. All this however 
only made him the more interesting in her eyes ; and, 
she being determined that he should talk, he some- 
times found it difficult to help himself. 

“ What’s the reason you don’t look at me when you 
answer?” she demanded of him at one time, as she 
stood watching him at work. “ Is it necessary that 
you should keep your eyes on those wheels all the 
time while yoii are greasing them ? One would think 
you had done something you were ashamed of, and 
were afraid to look people in the face.” 

Ruggles muttered something in reply, without 
looking up however. He still had a fear lest Miss 
Drew might remember him if he gave her another op- 
portunity to look him straight in the face. He need 
not, however. She had gotten quite used to him as 
he now appeared, and the ghost of the somebody- 
else of whom he reminded her had ceased to haunt her. 

“ And why don’t you talk more ? ” she went on, 
more provoked than ever. “ I understand that you 
are studying Latin and Greek. Dear me ! What do 
you want to learn any more languages for, when you’ve 


176 The Story of Honor Bright. 

no use for the one you know already ? And what are 
you always so sober for? Come now, couldn^t you 
look up and smile, just this once — as a personal 
favor to me ? ” 

There was no resisting this. Ruggles looked up 
at her, and not only smiled but laughed. Miss 
Densie clapped her hands in delight. 

“Bravo!” cried she. “That is splendid! Now, 
if you could only say something funny, it would be 
complete. Did you ever make a joke ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Ruggles, “ I did make one once in 
my life, I believe. Your speaking of languages re- 
minded me of it.” 

“ Oh, do tell it me ! ” entreated Densie. 

“Well,” said Ruggles. “Let me see. What’s 
the French for thieft Do you remember ? ” 

“ Voleur.^^ Densie rather prided herself on her 
French. 

“Yes; that is it,” Ruggles nodded. “I knew it 
was something like the Latin word for to fly — volare. 
Indeed, that’s the point of the joke. In the French 
class, one day, I had a sentence with the word voleiir 
in it. I don’t recollect what the rest of the sentence 
was; only I couldn’t think what voleur meant, 
to save me. But I thought that it must come from 
the same root as volare (there are so many French 


Miss Dt'eiv Unearths a Mystery, 


177 


words that come from Latin ones in that way), so I 
made a desperate guess and translated it bird. I 
knew in a minute I had made a blunder by the look 
of horror on the Professor’s face. He was very 
sensitive to blunders, especially mine. ‘Indeed,’ 
said he. ‘What kind of a bird, pray?’ Just then, 
though, a fellow behind me whispered to me that the 
word meant thief, and so I answered up as quick as 
could be, ‘y^//-bird, sir.’ That was my joke ; and it 
always seemed to me that it was a pretty good one. 
At any rate, it brought down the house at the time.” 

Densie laughed, and declared that it was a capital 
joke. What he had said suggested something farther 
to her, however. 

“ So you have studied French ? ” said she thought- 
fully. “ It must have been at a private school. They 
don’t teach French very often at the public schools. 
Was it ? ” 

Ruggles all at once became entirely devoted to his 
work again, and made no answer. 

“And it must have been before you went out 
West. They don’t have private French classes out 
there, I take it. Honor tells me that you were born 
and brought up in Massachusetts, Ruggles. What 
part of Massachusetts was it ? ” 

“It’s about time that wheel was greased!” ob- 


178 The Story of Honor Bright. 

served Ruggles, with emphasis. “I wonder it didn’t 
get stuck when you were out yesterday.” 

And that was all that Miss Densie was able to get 
out of him. 

Of another morning during these same three days, 
Densie went out to the barn again, alone as it hap- 
pened, not expecting to find Ruggles this time, for 
she had seen him go out the gates a little while be- 
fore. Angus had told lier confidentially that he and 
R.uggles had a “Nest” in the barn that no one knew 
of. It was up in the barn-cupola. Ruggles had 
floored it over and fitted it up, and it was real cosey. 
He (Angus) would take her up there some time, but 
she must not let Ruggles know. It was a secret. In 
fact, Angus had not meant to tell it even to her, but 
she had persuaded it out of him. And she was so 
much interested in his account of the “Nest” that 
she concluded to go and explore it for herself. 

Going up the stable-stairs and passing Ruggles’s 
door (which she coolly tried but found locked) she 
discovered that to reach the cupola it was necessary 
to climb up on the hay-mow. The latter was not 
v^ery far above the second floor however, and she 
easily mounted to it by the upright ladder. Then 
she saw the Nest itself — or a squ^.re hole which evi- 
dently admitted to it — directly overhead, but quite 


Miss Drew Unearths a Mystery. 179 

high above her and with no visible means of access. 
Upon looking around, however, she discovered a 
ladder of quite sufficient length lying on the hay; 
and this with great difficulty she managed to raise 
and place against the edge of the opening. Then 
cautiously and rather ungracefully — for climbing 
ladders is not a required study at the best boarding- 
schools — she mounted to the Nest. 

She found the place all that Angus had described 
it. It was pleasant enough of itself, with windows 
on all its sides, and the wide lookout they gave over 
the fields and woods about. And Ruggles had 
shown decided taste and skill in fitting it up. The 
floor was neatly carpeted ; and there were seats 
built entirely around the little enclosure. The win- 
dows were hung with white curtains, and overhead 
the roof was painted a light blue, giving a very 
pleasant effect. On one of the benches lay an open 
atlas which was evidently used as a drawing port- 
folio, as there were several pencil sketches lying in 
and about it. A carriage-blanket rolled up on the 
floor, looked as though it had served as a pillow. 

Densie was quite charmed with the place. How 
cosey and pleasant it was, she thought to herself, and 
what a nice view it must afford on a pleasant day ! 
Ugh ! This horrid rain ! And she looked out of the 


i8o 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


window, noticing that it was raining again at this 
moment. 

She had taken up one of the sketches and was 
looking at it, when all at once she heard the sound of 
voices below. 

She sat and listened breathlessly. She recognized 
Angus’s voice, and — yes,Ruggles was certainly there, 
too. Then there came a stamping and shouting on 
the stairs, and a rustling of the hay ; and almost be- 
fore Densie could collect her senses, she was aware 
that they had chased each other up on the hay-mow 
itself, and were at this moment directly beneath her. 
She remained perfectly motionless, listening in dis- 
may. Ruggles and Angus — she could hear every, 
word and movement now — were wrestling in the hay 
at the very foot of the ladder. She scarcely dared 
breathe lest she should betray herself. She certainly 
did not care to be caught in the Nest after what 
Angus had said. She must stay where she was, 
keeping perfectly quiet, until they went away again. 
And she hoped of all things that they would not 
think of coming up the ladder. 

From the sound that came up (Densie did not 
dare peep through the opening) Ruggles was appar- 
ently lying on his back, and Angus was astride of 
him, stuffing hay into his eyes and ears. Presently 


Miss Drew Unearths a Mystery. i8i 

in their struggles, Angus seemed to have discovered 
something on Ruggles’s wrist by reason of the latter’s 
sleeve becoming rolled up. 

“ What’s that on your wrist ? ” asked he, pausing in 
his fun and panting for breath. “ I never saw it be- 
fore.” 

There was a moment’s silence, as though Ruggles 
might be pulling down and buttoning his sleeve again. 

“ Oh,” said he carelessly, “ that is nothing. One 
of the sailors marked it there when I was at sea.” 

“What does it stand for — ‘H. B.’?” asked Angus. 

“You saw the letters, did you? ’’said Ruggles. 

Trust you for keeping your eyes open. Well, it 
stands for Henry Bergh — and Hosea Bigelow and — 
hot biscuits — and lots of things. It is done with 
India ink. Sometimes it is called tattooing.” 

“ Do sailors always have to have it done ? ” 

“ No ; they don’t have to. But most of ’em do do 
it. Some of them have ships and things marked on 
the backs of their hands, and even on their necks 
and faces. There’s no sense in it though. It’s a 
silly practice. Once done, it’s done forever. There’s 
no rubbing it out. I would give a good deal to rub 
mine out. I thought it was the nicest thing in the 
world when I had it done, though. I’m glad it’s no 
bigger and is up where it doesn’t show.” 


iS2 The Story of Honor Bf'ight. 

“ Let me see it again,” said Angus. 

“ No ; Tin not fond of showing it. Indeed, I’d 
rather you wouldn’t say anythi’ig to anybody about 
it — ^that you have seen it or the letters. Do you 
understand ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Angus, “ I understand.” 

“ Upon your honor as a gentleman ? ” 

“Upon my honor as a gentleman,” declared 
Angus. And when the boy sa’d that it meant as 
much for him as it would for a far older person. 
His aunt Honor had taught him what personal 
honor was. 

Ruggles, catching sight of the ladder raised to the 
Nest, turned the conversation. 

“ Didn’t I tell you not to leave that ladder up ? ” 
said he a trifle sternly. 

“ I didn’t leave it up,” said Angus. 

“It must have been you. Nobody save you and I 
ever comes up here. I want you to always take it 
down. I don’t care for other people to find out 
about the Nest. We will have one place where they 
can’t follow uc or find us.” 

Then with a single motion of his hand, Ruggles 
sent Angus tumbling into the corner, and getting up 
went and took away the ladder, and laid it down 
where Densie had found it. 


Miss Drew Utiearths a Mystery. 183 

Miss Densie heard rather than saw all this. She 
was in a trap now- without a doubt. While she sat 
trying to think what she had best do, Ruggles spoke 
again, asking Angus where he was going. The 
latter seemed to have started down from the mow, 
and answered that he was going to the house for 
something to eat. 

When Angus had gone all was silent' for a moment; 
and then Ruggles appeared to have taken the pitch- 
fork, and was heard pitching hay down into the 
mangers. Miss Drew remained motionless in the 
cupola. She was getting tired of doing so however. 
What should she do ? She ventured stealthily to 
look through the opening now, and saw that without 
the ladder she could not possibly escape. But she 
could not get the ladder herself. Help from some- 
body below was absolutely necessary to her; and to 
call for help was to betray herself. Not that it was 
such a terrible thing to have been in the Nest. If 
she had announced her presence in the first place, it 
would not have been so very dreadful. • But now, 
having remained quiet and overheard what Ruggles 
and Angus had said, she somehow felt as though she 
would wish more than ever to get away unobserved. 
She had heard distinctly what had been said about 
the letters on Ruggles’s wrist ; and although she did 


184 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


not guess at their real meaning, she had not been 
deceived either, by the way Ruggles had passed 
it off. 

She was beginning already to have a theory of her 
own about her friend’s coachman. 

She waited a moment longer in great trouble as to 
the best course to pursue. Then she made up her 
mind that there was no help for it, and that she must 
make herself known. She of course could not stay 
there. 

Ruggles was still pitching down the hay, and just 
now he had been singing to himself as he worked, a 
scrap of Spanish love-song that he had picked up 
down in Sante Fe. His voice was not particularly 
musical, a fact of which he himself was perfectly well 
aware ; and he would hardly have thought of display- 
ing its qualities had he known of the presence of an- 
other. 

Densie, although not generally lacking in assur- 
ance, was a little diffident now in raising her voice. 
With a sudden summoning of all her courage, she at 
length sought to make herself heard. 

“Ruggles,” she called out rather faintly, “Mr. 
Ruggles ! ” 

Ruggles, at that moment turning away from the 


Miss Drew Unearths a Mystery. 1S5 

mangers and throwing down his fork, was singing 
louder than ever. He did not notice her call. 


“ Dientes de nacar, 

Labios de rosa, 

Manos preciosa 
Pequeeo pie,” 

he sang, repeating the first verse of the song because 
he could not think of the second. 

“ Ruggles ! Ruggles she called again, raising 
her voice. 

This time he heard her and looked up in amaze- 
ment. 

“ Won’t you please put the ladder up ? ” she said 
sweetly. “ I want to come down.” 

Without a word, he went and got the ladder and 
raised it to the opening. 

“Wait a moment,” said he. “I’ll come up and 
help you.” 

Then he came slowly up the ladder, both still keep- 
ing silent, until he reached the top. She wondered 
what he was thinking as he came up. 

“You’re quite a polyglot,” she said, as he stopped 
at last before her. “ That song was neither French, 
Latin nor Greek, I believe.” 


i86 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


“ No,” Ruggles responded briefly. “ It was Span- 
nish. Now, if you please.” 

He put out his hand to help her, and then, one 
instant, drew it back. 

“ I don’t know how you came here,” he said. “ But 
the existence of this place is one of our secrets — 
Angus’s and mine. If I help you down, you must 
promise that you won’t tell anybody else of it.” 

Oh, I promise,” cried Densie with alacrity. “I — 
I sort of stumbled upon it.” 

“And,” Ruggles went on, “ there are some other 
things — ” He spoke slowly as though not sure that 
he had best speak at all. “ There are some other 
things of which I prefer you should say nothing.” 

Then, without waiting for any answer, he took her 
hand and began helping her down the ladder. And, 
arrived at its foot, she without delay hastened to go 
down from the mow by herself and hurried off to the 
house. 

Densie thinking all this over later, felt sure^ she 
understood what Ruggles had meant by his last 
words, and sl^e made up her mind to be silent con- 
cerning it. Nevertheless, woman that she was, shcr 
could- not help saying to Honor, before they went to 
sleep that night, that she was sure there was some 
mystery about the coachman. It was her firm belief. 



DENSIE’S dream. — HUGO DE BOIS-GIULBERT, 





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Miss Drew Unearths a Mystery. 189 

she declared, that at some time or other he had oc- 
cupied a very different station in life, and that “ Rug- 
gles ” was no more his real name than, it was hers. 
And to herself she wondered with all her might what 
those mysterious letters, “ H. B.,” could stand for ; 
and she promised herself quite positively that sooner 
or later she would find out. And when at last, tired 
of turning the. problem over in her head, she fell 
asleep, she dreamed that Ruggles came riding up the 
carriage-path the next morning in a coal-black armor 
with a raven plume and his visor down ; and that on 
his shield in golden letters was inscribed this highly 
satisfactory name : “ Hugo de Bois-Guitbert.^' 


CHAPTER XIII. 


THE WITCHERY OF ARCHERY. 

HE first “meet ” of the Random Archery Club 



X did not take place until nearly a fortnight after 
the day first agreed upon. There had been some de- 
lay about getting the tackle and uniforms ; and then 
it was found that considerable practice would be 
needed before most of the members could shoot at 
all. On the Monday of the second week following, 
however, the club came together at Hollownook at 
three o’clock in the afternoon. It was understood 
that after the shooting there would be an out-door 
tea, and that the party would remain for some sort of 
good time in the evening. 

The back lawn, familiar before this with all the 
beauties of croquet and lawn-tennis, had never pre- 
sented so attractive an appearance as it did this after- 
noon when at length all were assembled and the arch- 



The Witchery of Archery. 19 1 

ery practice began. A pretty tent of red-and-white 
canvas had been pitched at one side ; and this, with 
the bright-colored seats standing back in the shadow 
of the trees, the targets, one at either end of the lawn, 
and the groups of archers themselves in their white- 
and-green uniforms, with bow and quiver, moving 
here and there — all this on its ground of dark-green 
grass, freshly cut for the occasion, made a very beau- 
tiful picture indeed. 

At least so Ruggles thought as he looked back at 
it for a moment from the edge of the pine grove. 
Ruggles was not in the best of humor this afternoon. 
And this, not simply because, having worked hard all 
the morning at getting feady for the archery meeting, 
he must now step aside and let those who might he 
considered his betters have all the enjoyment. There 
may have been, naturally enough, a little bitterness 
in his heart on this account; but there was something 
else on his mind just now which had far more to do 
with his ill-humor. 

The fact was, Ruggles had an appointment a little 
later in the afternoon, down at the edge of the wood, 
near the pond ; and it was one that he did not feel at 
all at ease about. 

It is necessary, for certain reasons, to explain just 
here to the reader that Ruggles had that morning met 


192 


The Story of Honor Bright, 


an old, though by no means valued, acquaintance. 
Having occasion, early in the day, to go down to the 
store for something, in crossing the Green he had 
come upon a group of villagers gathered about a sin- 
gle individual who seemed to be addressing them ; 
and drawing nearer, Ruggles suddenly perceived with 
surprise that he knew the speaker. It was a man who 
had once been in the same employ with himself in 
Colorado, but who, on account of a slight misunder- 
standing about some missing horses, had been obliged 
suddenly to decamp in order to preserve his valuable 
life. Ruggles was not particularly glad to see him 
now, but it was not his way to turn his back upon a 
former acquaintance. 

“ You can’t none of you be aware, gentlemen” — 
Herron (that was his name) was saying as Ruggles 
came up — “you cert’nly can’t have no addykate con- 
ception, gentlemen, of what a great traveller I have 
been. My perfesshun hes ben such as ter call me to 
ev’ry quarter of the known or unknown globe ; an’ 
I suppose there isn’t no parrylell of longytood thet I 
heven’t trod on, an’ no merridium thet I heven’t 
crossed. Why, where do you s’pose now thet I wos 
jest one year ago ter-day ? Jest make a guess, some 
ov yer.” 

The orator paused and looked around upon his in- 



AN OLD, THOUGH ISY NO MEANS VALUED ACQUAINTANCE 












’ .so/i/vT/.' 




flFt^ ^ ^ « <»m 





The Witchery of Avchery. 195 

terested audience with the air of one who puts a con- 
nundrum whose answer is not possible to be guessed. 
His surprise may perhaps be quite as well imagined 
as described when a good-natured voice on his right 
immediately responded : 

“ Well, Herron, as near as I can recollect about it, 
a year ago to-day you were stowed away in a hollow- 
tree down in Maxwell’s Canon, trying to keep out of 
the way of the vigilance committee.” 

Herron looked quickly down and recognized our 
hero. So distinguished a traveller and man of the 
world was not to be taken aback, however, at even 
such an interruption. He pushed his way through 
the group to where Ruggles was, and grasped his 
hand. 

“ Ef it ain’t Bright ! ” exclaimed he. “ May 1 never 
be made a major-gineral ef I ain’t glad ter see you. 
How did you come hereV 

“ How did you come here ? ” returned Ruggles, 
laughing. And then he went on quickly to ask Her- 
ron this question and that about himself ; and as soon 
as he could he drew him out from the group and 
w^alked off with him alone. Herron had known him 
by his own name. Honor Bright ; and Ruggles was 
afraid that he might call him by it, and thus excite 
attention if overheard. The conversation that natu- 


196 


The Story of Ho7ior Blight. 


rally followed between them was of no particular con- 
sequence. They talked over the men and places they 
had known in common for some little time. Finally, 
Ruggles inquired where the other was bound, feeling 
the necessity of shaking him off as soon as possible. 
To his no small disgust Herron answered that he was 
not bound anywhere in particular. He did not know 
but he should stay about for a while. One did not 
fall in with an old friend every day. Besides, he had 
no money. If Bright could make him a loan, now — 
say of five or ten dollars — until he could get a draft 
that he was expecting his friend Colonel Stalker (who 
was in New York) would send him at Boston, he 
didn’t know bur he should like then to continue 
his travels at once. 

Ruggles, knowing his companion well, decided 
what to do at once. 

“ I’ll tell you what I’ll do, Herron,” said he. “I 
haven’t any money with me, but I’ll get it for you. “ I’ll 
meet you — down by the Pond, say — just back of 
those woods off yonder, sometime this afternoon — 
about four o’clock. I’ll bring you fifteen dollars — 
that’s every bit I have by me — on condition that 
you’ll keep out of sight between now and then, and 
that after that you’ll clear out and not come back.” 

“ Ashamed of me, eh ? ” said Herron. 


The Witchery of A^'chery. 


197 


“ Yes, put it that way if you like. What do you say ? ” 

Herron, of course, finally said yes ; and, once more 
naming the time and place, and making him promise 
to keep himself out of the way until then, Ruggles left 
him. 

The programme for the afternoon’s shooting was 
not a very formal one. There was merely the general 
idea that everybody was to shoot at the target and 
that the person making the best shot would, for the 
present at least, be Master Bowman. There was no 
thought as yet of keeping any exact score. That 
would come by and by, as well as a great many other 
of the more elaborate rules and customs of the sport. 

The targets had been placed some twenty-five yards 
apart, nearly facing each other. The archers were to 
be allow'ed a double round of six arrows each. The 
ladies, with Angus among them, were to stand just 
back of the line of one target and shoot across this 
twenty-five yards at the other. The gentlemen, being 
stronger and having heavier bows, were to shoot from 
a line some ten yards further back. These, Densie 
declared, were very fair distances for beginners. 

They were to shoot alphabetically ; and when the 
time came to begin. Honor thus found herself obliged 
to lead off. She had practiced more or less for the 
last week under Densie’s instruction, so that she could 


198 


The, Story of Honor Bright. 


handle her bow tolerably well ; but she certainly had 
not as yet arrived at any great degree of jDroficiency 
in its use. Her first arrow, discharged with quickness 
and firmness, appeared, as all eagerly watched its 
course, to be going straight to the Gold, but was found, 
in reality, to have just missed the target ; and, fiying 
swiftly on beyond it, buried itself in the hedge. The 
shot was regarded as a very good one, however, and 
greeted with applause. Indeed, it turned out to be 
our heroine’s best during this rouiicl, for not only did 
no other of her six arrows touch the target, but they 
'all flew quite wide of it. Honor made room for the 
next person, a little flushed but quite ready to laugh 
at herself. 

“At any rate,” said she, “if I haven’t hit the tar- 
get, I haven’t shot any cows or anything. I read in 
the Transcript yesterday of a farmer whose cow came 
home all stuck full of 'arrows, where some archery 
club had been practicing in the neighborhood.” 

. It seemed, however, that Honor was not to be alone 
in failing to hit the target. Both the Browning girls 
and then Merrie Cutler followed her, and still no 
arrow had pierced even the outer rim of the canvas. 
The last young lady desperately shut her eyes when 
she made her final shot, and pulled her bow at a ven- 
ture, thereby very nearly shooting Livy who had 







^ MEMBER OF THE ARCHERY CLUB 


199 





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The Witchery of Archery. 


201 


walked over to the edge of the lawn for something. 

“ You had better look out, Mr. Livingston,” cried 
she, ox you'll come back all stuck full of arrows.” 

Then came Densie Drew’s turn ; and she took her 
place and fitted her arrow to the string with an air 
that plainly said that she meant to do something. In- 
deed, Densie had quite determined in her own mind 
that she would be Master Bowman. It was hardly 
probable there would be anybody among these Ran- 
dom people who could outshoot her. 

“ Now we shall see ! ” said Mort Wetherell rather 
provokingly, from close behind her. He did not really 
mean that Densie should hear; but her quick ear 
caught the words and she turned and shot a glance 
at him that itself certainly went straight to its mark. 
Densie had heard of Mort Wetherell’s faculty for 
making disagreeable speeches, and she had made up 
her mind to put him down. What he had said, how- 
ever, coupled with her extreme desire to do well, 
made her a little nervous, so that only two of her 
arrows struck the target, and neither of these was 
inside the Black. She bit her lip in vexation as 
her last arrow flew quite wide of the mark. 

“I am sure, Densie,” said Honor, “you need not 
look so vexed. You are the only one that has hit 
the target at all so far.” 


202 


The Story of Honor Bright, 


“ I don’t know what is the matter with me,” de- 
clared Densie. “ I have shot miserably.” 

“ I believe you,” put in Mort bluntly. “ We shall 
have earned our name if we don’t do better than 
this. I never saw such jDOor shooting in all my life.” 

“No doubt we shall be treated to something very 
different when Mr. Wetherell’s turn comes,” remarked 
Densie witheringly. “ No doubt will eclipse us all.” 

“ I certainly expect to shoot better than anything 
I have seen yet,” responded Mort coolly. “ If I don’t, 
may my right hand forget that it is cunning.” 

“ I thought they told me you were studying civil 
engineering, Mr. Wetherell,” observed Densie. 
Mort was at the school of Technology. 

“ So I am,” answered he in some surprise. “ Why t ” 

“Nothing; only I think 2^;/civil engineering might 
be more in your line.” 

Mort laughed. “ You certainly scored a point 
there,” said he good-humoredly. “Well, I didn’t 
mean to be rude. I beg your pardon.” 

Then the shooting went on again ; but for some time 
still without any good shots being made. Miss Harri- 
man put an arrow into the Inner White, and Sam Potter 
shot two of his through different places on the edge of 
the target. But with these exceptions all the arrows 
stopped short of or went beyond the mark. The 


The Witchery of Archery. 203 

members began to insist that the target was too far 
off. Sadie Wetherell declared as she threw down 
her bow that nobody could hit it twice in succession. 

“We’ll see about that,” said Mort, whose turn 
came immediately after his sister’s, and who was 
indeed last on the list. 

He discharged his six arrows in quick succession, 
the first passing just over the target, the second 
under it and the other four all lodging in it, one in 
the Outer White, one in the Black and two almost 
exactly in the same place in the Inner White. Mort 
evidently had shot before. 

There was a great deal of applause, and everybody 
declared loudly that he would be the Master Bowman. 
That is, everybody save Densie. She elevated her 
chin a little, and insisted that nothing wonderful had 
been done as yet. And the trial was yet only half 
through. 

Then they all went down to the other end of the 
field, and there was a great time hunting up the 
arrows. During the search Densie found herself for 
a moment at the lower end of the hedge alone with 
Mort Wetherell. 

“ Shan’t I help you find your arrows ? ” asked he. 

“Have you found all of your own?” inquired 
Densie, 


204 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


“ Oh, yes; only two of mine came by, you know.” 

Densie tossed her head. 

“ I really hope you will forgive me for shooting 
better than you did,” said he laughing. ‘‘I really 
don’t see how I could help it.” 

Densie did not laugh, however. She was a good 
deal of a spoiled child, and apt to be out of temper 
when things did not go to suit her. “ I mean to 
shoot better next round,” said she briefly. 

And Mort, seeing that she took the matter so to 
heart, carelessly resolved that he at least would not 
stand in the way again of her making the best shot. 
He certainly had no ambition to be Master Bowman 
himself. He could not resist the temptation to 
return the thrust she had given him a little while 
before, however. And so, as he picked up and 
handed to her her last arrow, he remarked that he 
certainly hoped she would make the best score this 
time. “ I think you would make a capital Master 
Bowman, Miss Drew,” said he. “ You have such a 
talent for — for bossing, you know.” 

The second round was rather more creditable to 
the club generally than the first had been. A great 
many more arrows found the target, and there were 
some really good shots. The interest, however, was 
centred in Densie and Mort, who were evidently con- 


The Witchery of Archery. 


205 


siderably more skilful than the rest. Densie shot 
much better than before ; and there was a shout of 
applause when one of her arrows was seen to fix it- 
self in the edge of the very Gold. It was altogether 
the best shot that had been made, and seemed likely 
to settle the question of leadership. The excitement 
became intense, therefore, and the applause was re- 
doubled when the last of Mort’s arrows, more of 
chance probably than intention, for it was apparently 
discharged with entire carelessness, flying swiftly to 
the mark, planted itself in the edge of the Gold di- 
rectly opposite Densie’s arrow, in a position otherwise 
so exactly the same that it was impossible to say 
that either was nearer the centre. It was declared 
at once that they two must shoot another round to 
decide the matter, a course to which Mort appeared 
to be lazily disinclined, but to which he finally was* 
obliged to agree, proposing, however, that the six 
shots of each be counted this time at their regular 
score value, so much for each color hit. Densie 
readily assented to this; and after a short delay 
the shooting was once more resumed, this time, how- 
ever, it being confined, of course, to Miss Drew and 
Mr. Wetherell. 

Densie was now entirely cool and self-possessed, 
and did her very best. Her finest single shot was 


2 o 6 The Story of Honor Bright. 

not quite so good as that she had made before ; but 
she lodged three arrows in the Red, and not either of 
the other three missed the target entirely. Her total 
score was twenty-eight, and she felt more than satis- 
fied with it as she finished. 

And then came Mort’s turn again. He seemed to 
shoot much more carefully and deliberately than 
heretofore. His first arrow lodged in the Inner 
White, his second in the Black, and his third, and 
fourth, one in the Outer White and one in the Red. 
Everybody clapped their hands and marvelled. He 
had sent an arrow into each color except the Gold. 
And the enthusiasm of the company may be imagined 
when, an instant later, his fifth arrow went straight 
to the Gold itself, lodging within an inch of the centre. 
It was a splendid shot, and one that would have 
made him Master Bowman but for the change in 
counting which he himself had suggested. 

All was still again as Mort made ready with his 
last arrow. And everybody watched with deepest 
interest as he stood there almost a minute with his 
bow raised and bent. All that while, however, he 
was not, as was supposed, taking careful aim. He was 
counting up his score and calculating what he should 
do. Nine and Seven and Five and Three and One. 
That made him Twenty-five. Any shot inside the 



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The Witchery of Archery. 


209 


Black would give him a larger score than Densie, 
and this he did not want. If he made the Black 
itself, the two scores would be a tie, and this he did 
not want either. So he took careful aim at last at 
the Outer White and let go the arrow. 

It was no easy thing to do, however, and he had 
aimed a little wide lest he should possibly make the 
Black after all. And the result was that his arrow 
just missed the target entirely, and flying on with the 
speed of light, penetrated the hedge beyond. 

The next instant there arose from over behind 
this hedge such a howling and lamentation that every- 
body stood in dismay. The arrow had evidently 
found a living mark of some sort, 


CHAPTER XIV. 


A CHANCE SHOT. 


moment later a human figure appeared at an 



Jr\. opening in the hedge a short distance below 
where the arrow had entered. This figure advanced 
with a characterless sort of gait toward the still wonder- 
ing group of archers, one hand holding his hat and the 
other ostentatiously pressing to his head a maroon- 
colored silk handkerchief. He groaned as if in great 
pain as he came forward. He seemed to be of that 
class altogether common in New England, and gener- 
ally recognizable at a glance — the class of “ tramps.” 
Plainly, this tramp had been shot in the head, and 
craved sympathy in his affliction. He was not a 
pleasant-looking person either as to his face or gen- 
eral appearance ; and there was a little cry of femi- 
nine terror as he drew near. 

“ He can’t be very much hurt,” somebody said in 


210 


A Chance Shot, 


211 


an undertone. “ He makes too much fuss about it.’^ 
And then the stranger was close upon them. 

“ W’at’s the matter with me ? ” he began, repeating 
the words as though they were a question that had 
been asked. “ I sh’d think yer would want ter know. 
Is honest men’s lives ter be sacrificed in this way, 
thet they’s ter be shot down with bown’-arrers where- 
ever they goes ? ” Then he bowed his head and 
groaned again in great agony. 

“ Pooh ! ” uttered Mort Wetherell, standing forth 
as a sort of spokesman. “ People who are killed 
don’t generally make so much noise about it. I don’t 
believe you’re hurt much. Let’s see.” And he took 
a step forward. 

But the man groaned again and drew back, con- 
veying the idea that his hurt was too tender a matter 
even to be looked upon. 

“ All I asks is,” said he, “ that yer give me a dol- 
lar or two ter pay the doctor fur sewin’ it up.” 

This Mort declined to do until he had seen the 
wound; whereupon the man began to bluster and 
threaten, muttering something about seeing a lawyer 
instead of a doctor. 

Mort laughed contemptuously. 

“ It is we who will see a lawyer,” retorted he, “ if 
you are not careful. What right had you to be over 


212 


The Story of Hofior Bright. 


beyond that hedge there? Didn’t you know that 
this is private property ? And haven’t you seen a 
poster in your travels telling you that people without 
visible means of support are liable to arrest ? ” 

“Don’t yer call them visible means of . supjDort ? ” 
demanded the man, holding out both hands. Then 
quickly he returned to his head again the one that 
held the handkerchief, but not before those standing 
by had seen that his injury was probably a very slight 
matter. “ Besides,” he went on, “ I’ve a perfeshun of 
my own, Td hev ye understan’. I’m a dealer in horses.” 

“Well,” said Mort indifferently, “we haven’t any 
horses here that we want dealt with. And we have 
had enough of this, I think. Here, take that, and be 
good enough to resume your travels.” And he held 
out a quarter-dollar. 

The stranger took the coin without thanks, care- 
fully feeling of its edge to make sure that it was not 
a twenty-cent piece, and then looking around upon 
the rest of the company as though expecting further 
contributions. He was not encouraged, and, grum- 
bling to himself, he presently turned and walked off 
again, both hands in his pockets. Instead of going 
away as he had come, however, he went down toward 
the Nook, and was almost immediately lost sight of 
among the trees. 


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A Chance Shot. 


21 $ 

The archety part of the day’s programme being now 
completed and it being already quite late, Honor 
requested her friends to make themselves at home 
among the grounds while she retired to superintend 
the setting of some tables under the trees near by. 
Densie offered to assist her, but Honor would not 
hear of it. The Master Bowman, she said, must 
remain with the club. 

So, for something less than an hour, the young 
people occupied themselves in one way and another, 
some still keeping up the shooting, some sitting 
about in the shade or going in and out the tent, and 
some strolling about the place. 

Among the last-named were Miss Drew and Mr. 
Wetherell. Densie, having secured her wish, was 
now disposed to be quite gracious to her rival ; and 
she had at once taken possession of him and in- 
dicated her desire to walk about a little before tea. 
They were both good talkers, and their conversation 
was interesting and lively. It would, however, be im- 
possible to reproduce it here. One little incident 
which occurred to them must, however, be briefly re- 
counted. 

They had lingered for some time in the Nook ; 
but others having by and by found their way hither, 
Densie had led her companion down one of the 


2i6 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


long corridors of pines until they were quite deep in 
the woods. All at once they heard voices and halted. 
The sound came from what must be an open space 
near by, separated from them by a thickness of 
foliage. 

“ Hush ! It’s the tramp ! ” whispered Densie, 
holding up her hand and looking startled. 

They stood still and listened breathlessly. The 
unmistakable tones of their late visitor, the “tramp,” 
could be distinctly heard, although they did not catch 
the words. Then he stopped speaking, and another 
voice began to reply — a voice that Densie also 
instantly recognized. It was that of Ruggles. She 
put her finger to her lips, and drawing nearer to the 
leaves, they found an open place and peered through. 
Ruggles and the tramp were standing there together, 
the latter facing themselves. The former had some 
money in his hands — bank-notes, as they could see 
plainly — which he at this moment held out to his 
companion. 

“ All right, then,” he was saying. “ Here is the 
money. You’ll stand by the bargain ? ” 

“Of course.” The tramp took the bills and 
nodded. “ I wouldn’t go back on an old frien’ 
and pardner. Spesh’ly one as done me the good 
turn you did once, thet time down in the kenyon. 



THE WITNESSES. 


217 




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A Chance Shot. 


219 


Me an the Boy ’ll be miles from here to-morrow 
mornin’.” 

“ Good-by, then.” Ruggles seemed anxious for 
the other to go. 

Addeeos” returned the tramp. “Ye hevn’t for- 
got yer Mexikin, I hope. Tengy oostay agrydarbles 
enswaynyos. Sweet dreams to ye.” 

Then he moved as if to go ; and Densie and her 
companion, fearing they might be caught listening, 
turned and hurried back toward the Nook. 

“What could they have been talking about ? ’’asked 
Densie presently, as they came back to where the 
hammock was hung. “And why should he have 
been giving that person money } ” 

“ Oh, I don’t know,” returned Mort carelessly. 
“ Probably it was some relation of his, or something, 
whom he was ashamed of ; and he gave him five 
dollars to get rid of him.” 

Which explanation Densie herself received as 
quite a probable one ; and Ruggles sank in her esti- 
mation many, many degrees. Doubtless, after all, he 
was an extremely common person, and the letters on 
his wrist stood for some such horrid name as Heze- 
kiah Briggs or Hiram Brown. Densie’s dainty lip 
curled as she thought of it, and instantly began to 
talk about something else ; and in two minutes had 


220 


The Story of Honor Bright, 


forgotten the very existence of so insignificant an 
individual as Thomas Ruggles. 

Of the out-door tea, which occupied something 
more than an hour’s time, and which was all that 
Honor, in her quality of hostess, could have wished it 
to be, nothing can now be said. And it will be neces- 
sary as hurriedly to pass over the time that followed 
until twilight came on and the house by and by was 
lighted up. 

About eight o’clock the party, with the exception 
of a very few, had gathered in-doors and was scat- 
tered about through the different rooms, variously 
occupied, after the manner of a company that has 
not yet made up its mind just how it will pass the 
evening. In the music-room Densie had seated her- 
self at the piano and was carelessly playing a waltz, 
perhaps by way of suggesting what would be her 
pleasure as to the evening’s occupation. She de- 
sisted in a moment, however, as, glancing over her 
shoulder, she saw through the open door that Mort 
Wetherell was, so to speak, carrying on an opposition 
to her in the library and attracting quite an audience 
to himself. Mort was going through a special rble 
of his, which he could act to perfection, and for 
which he was invariably called upon of society-nights 
at college. His somewhat extraordinary preparations 


A Chance Shot. 


221 


at once drew Densie from her seat at the piano. 

Mort had arranged Sam Potter before him with 
an umbrella held straight up over his shoulder, 
so as to look as much as possible like a big bass-viol ; 
and then he himself, with Sam’s cane to represent a 
bow, was acting the part of a musician — making 
with his mouth all sorts of appropriate sounds as 
he appeared to be stringing and tuning his ridicu- 
lous-looking instrument ; rasping across it continually 
to. try it, and all the while, in the funniest manner 
imaginable, talking away to his audience with an 
inimitable German accent and with all of a German’s 
volubility and animation. Densie herself could not 
help laughing as she saw him ; though she presently 
thought it necessary to assume an air of severe dis- 
approval, as she went through the library and out 
into the hall in quest of Honor. 

Fifteen minutes later it was discovered that Honor 
and Densie were missing ; and then, as inquiry began 
to be made, they reappeared together, coming down 
the hall stairs. 

“ Ladies and gentlemen,” Honor announced, halt- 
ing on the stairs and speaking so as to be generally 
heard, “ we have decided upon a plan for the even- 
ing’s entertainment. We are going to extemporize a 


222 


The Story of Honor Bright, 


sheet-and-pillow-case masquerade. I trust that will 
be agreeable to everybody ! ” 

This communication being received with universal 
favor, Honor went on to say that rooms had been 
prepared above, where sheets and pillow-cases would 
be found in plenty, and the company were requested 
to go up at once and get themselves ready. The 
gentlemen’s room was to the right, and the ladies’ to 
the left. 

Whereupon, eager and delighted, they all hastened 
up-stairs, leaving the rooms below, for the moment, in 
a state of quiet once more. While they were gone. 
Honor occupied the time in making some re-arrange- 
ment of the apartments. There would be dancing, of 
course, so Donald and Ruggles were sent for to come 
and move the piano nearer the hall door, so it could 
be better heard in the parlors. And some tables 
and chairs were taken out altogether. Before this 
was quite accomplished, some of the maskers had 
already come down again, though it was quite impos- 
sible to distinguish them, enveloped, as they were, 
from head to foot. One of these had just reached 
the hall as Ruggles, having finished what he had 
come for, was going out. He was passing quickly, 
hat in hand, when this unknown person laid a hand 
on his shoulder. 


A* Chance Shot. 


223 


“ Aren’t you going to stay ? ” was asked him, the 
speaker dropping her voice (it was a lady) to a whis- 
per, so as not to betray herself. “It will be lots of 
fun. Why don’t you get you a sheet ? ” 

Ruggles halted a single moment, not having the 
remotest idea who this could be, and hardly compre- 
hending the words. Then, nettled at the thought 
that he was being trifled with, he turned roughly 
on without a word of answer, and went out the 
door. 

The incident lingered in our hero’s mind, however, 
as unpleasant things are like to do, for a long while 
after that, and aggravated a certain feeling of sore- 
ness and discontent that had troubled him all the 
day. To see and hear these young people enjoying 
themselves so, and himself to be shut out from it all 
— this was getting to be harder and harder for poor 
Ruggles, in spite of his good sense and his dreams 
of a magnificent future. 

A few minutes later and the company had all come 
down again, and the rooms at Hollownook were full 
of “ tall and sheeted ghosts ” moving here and there, 
laughing and talking with each other, and getting 
merrier and merrier as the spirit of the thing was 
more fully entered into. 

Ruggles had gone at once to the stable, intending 


2 24 The Story of Honor* Bright. 

to light his lamp and go to work. But at the foot of 
the stairs he halted a moment, undecided ; and then, 
turning back, he went and pushed open the door of 
the carriage-room and sat down in a camp-chair that 
was kept there. He was in no mood for study to- 
night, especially with all this noise about the place. 
From where he sat he could see, through the long 
piazza-windows* streaming with light, the figures of 
the masqueraders as they moved about ; and the 
sound of their voices and their laugliter, and pres- 
ently the notes of the music as they began a dance, 
came across the lawn with an irritating distinctness 
through the still night. He was half-inclined to go 
down to the Nook and go to sleep in the hammock, or 
to take a walk down by the Pond perhaps. And 
with this last thought came a recollection of Herron 
and the incident of their meeting. Ruggles had no 
doubt that Herron had kept his promise and was at 
this moment half a dozen miles away. And now 
that he had gone, the lad felt a sort of genuine pity 
for his old acquaintance. Sitting there in the dark- 
ness, just within sound and sight of a scene of joy 
and gayety which he was quite shut out from enter- 
ing, it was easy to have a kind of fellow-feeling for 
tramps and outcasts. 

And so Ruggles fell into a gloomy reverie that 


A Chance Shot. 


225 


lasted a long time. He was aroused by and by by 
the approach along the drive of a figure in white, 
which he at once guessed to be that of Angus, 

“Well, Angus,” said he, “are you tired of it?” 

“ It’s no fun ! ” answered Angus, in a tone of dis- 
gust. “ Everybody knows me — j list as did. I’m 
so short.” Then he began impatiently pulling off his 
disguise. 

“ / don’t want it any more,” he declared, throwing 
it down on the stable floor. “ I know what Fm 
going to do. I’m going to get up in one of the 
trees and shoot beans at ’em with my bean-snap- 
per.” 

And with this nefarious project in mind, Angus 
strode away as he had come, vowing dire vengeance 
on all the world, like a pirate in a story. 

Ruggles sat and looked at the discarded sheet and 
pillow-case, turning over in his mind, at first indiffer- 
ently, and then with growing interest, a notion that 
had come into his head. The words of the person 
he had met in the hall came back to him. Why 
should he not wrap himself up like the rest and go in 
among the company ? Here was an opportunity to 
lay aside the coachman and go back, for an hour or 
two, at least, into the world to which he really be- 
longed. The temptation all at once became very 


226 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


great, and he was in a reckless mood. He took the 
sheet and wound it about him, and carefully envel- 
oped his head and face, in the pillow-case. Then he . 
moved towards the house, making a slight detour, so 
as to approach from the front. There were many of 
the party walking about the grounds, and there was 
no likelihood of the new-comer being noticed. 


CHAPTER XV. 


SHEETS AND PILLOW-CASES. 

A fter meeting some half-dozen persons simi- 
larly attired, and being addressed by them ex- 
actly as one of themselves, Ruggles began to feel 
entire confidence in his disguise ; and at the same 
time there sprang up in him — the reaction, probably, 
from the dissatisfaction he had felt with everything 
and everybody a little while before — a sort of exal- 
tation of spirit, that made him ready now to vent- 
ure anywhere, and enjoy his novel situation to the 
utmost. 

In the grounds front of the house he met several 
of the company, most of them promenading in couples. 
Among these, as they passed by, he recognized at one 
time Livingston Mauran, who was walking slowly 
along with a lady on his arm, to whom, in his unmis- 
takable drawl, he was elaborately quoting some bit of 


227 


228 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


blank verse about Troilus and Cressida, and a moon- 
light night. And not very far behind these came 
Densie Drew, also distinguishable by her voice, talk- 
ing away to her companion, ypung Rodman, as 
briskly as a Trappist monk upon a talking-day. Rug- 
gles halted a moment and looked after the latter 
couple. As he turned to move on again, he found 
himself face to face with a new individual, a lady, 
whom, with instant resolution, he accosted. 

“ Aren’t you rather imprudent,” asked he, by way 
of beginning, “ to come out here into the dark all 
by yourself ? ” 

The person addressed, ordinarily quite tall, drew 
herself up still higher. The words, though Ruggles 
had of course not intended it, had touched a sensitive 
spot. Miss Harriman — for it was the elder of the 
two Harriman girls — had found herself something of 
a wall-flower this evening, and had not enjoyed 
lierself particularly. And she had been dwelling 
upon the fact rather bitterly as she came along the 
path. 

Thank you,” said she, very stiffly. “ I don’t mind 
being alone at all.” She did not pass on, however, and 
presently went on, in a much sweeter manner, to speak 
of the weather and the beauty of the night. The 
moon was now just rising above the trees. She 


honor’s SHEET-AND-PILLOW-CASE PARTY. 229 





Sheets and Pillow-cases, 


231 


thought it much more pleasant, she said, to walk 
about the grounds than to stay in-doors. Did he not 
agree with her ? 

But Ruggles, perceiving now who his companion 
was (he had seen her several times before this), rather 
regretted having stopped her. His reply to what she 
had said was not very enthusiastic ; and although they 
stood talking politely together for some minutes, he 
was looking all the while for an opportunity to get 
away. This came almost immediately, and in a man- 
ner as satisfactory as he could have asked. 

For just at this juncture Densie Drew and her 
escort were heard returning along the walk. The 
former seemed still to be carrying on most of the 
conversation. Ruggles and his new acquaintance 
could hear distinctly what she was saying as they 
stood in silence. Densie, it appeared, was begging 
young Rodman to give her one of the buttons from 
his uniform-coat, which he had not worn to the 
Archery meeting. She was making a collection, she 
said. She had a button given her by a West Point 
cadet, and a midshipman, and a young fellow in the 
Signal Service, and a student from St. John’s School 
at Sing Sing, New York, and one from the Highland 
School at Worcester. And now she wanted a Che- 


232 The Story of Honor Bright. 

shire button too. Perhaps she should make a neck- 
lace of them when she had enough. 

Then the four came together, and Densie halted, say- 
ing something at once that would include Miss Harri- 
man and Ruggles in the conversation. Truth to tell, 
she was a little tired of her present companion, and was 
seeking some excuse for dismissing him. And this 
desire was increased by the curiosity she presently 
began to feel as to Ruggles. The latter spoke in a 
low, even tone of voice, which, although it sounded 
familiar to her, she was quite unable to connect with 
any particular member of the company. Hardly a 
minute had passed before she had made up her mind 
to substitute him for young Rodman, in continuing 
her walk ; and her quick wit at once suggested a 
method. She carelessly changed her position, so as 
to bring Ruggles where her late companion had been, 
and then, as though by a sudden impulse, she took 
his arm. 

“Come, Mr. Rodman,” said she, “we must not 
stand here. Let’s go on to the house.” 

And before Ruggles could make any resistance, 
even had he been so disposed, she had started on, 
drawing him with her and talking away in such 
rapid fashion as to leave him no chance to speak 
until they were some distance from the other two. 


Sheets and Pillow-cases, 233 

Ruggles, however, took the matter very quietly. 

Pray don’t consider it necessary to address me as 
Mr. Rodman any longer,” he said coolly, as soon as 
he got a chance. 

“ Dear me ! I do believe I have made a mistake 
and taken the wrong gentleman,” exclaimed Densie, 
with great show of surprise. She held him at arms’ 
length. “ It certainly isn’t Mr. Rodman at all ! 
How funny ! Well, then, what shall I call you 'i I’m 
sure I haven’t the faintest idea as to who you are.” 
This last, at least, was quite true. 

“ Oh,” replied Ruggles, “you may call me what you 
please, and I am quite at your service. Shall we go 
on to the house or stay out here ? ” 

“ I think we will go in, Mr. What-you-please. I 
want to get you into the light where I can see you. 
I’m fairly dying of curiosity.” 

“ Ah,” said Ruggles. “ It must be a very unpleas- 
ant sort of death — dying of curiosity. If it is likely 
to prove fatal. I’ll tell you my real name.” 

“ Oh, no, indeed ! ” Densie tossed her head. “ I 
don’t really care in the least to know. If I did, I 
dare say I could easily guess. I presume I have 
talked with you several times before, this evening. 
That is the worst of these sheet-and-pillow-case affairs. 
People all look so much alike, that every time you 


234 


The Story of Honor Bright, 


meet them you have to find out who they are all 
over again. 

“ I can assure you that you haven’t found me out 
before, nor talked with me.” 

“ I thought I had talked with everybody,” said Den- 
sie. “That is, with all the gentlemen. But perhaps 
I took you for a lady. As Mort Wetherell says, one 
can’t tell Fine from Superfine half the time when 
they’re wrapped up in this way. I suppose I know 
your name, don’t I ? ” 

“ Yes,” answered Ruggles. “ Yes ; I’ve heard you 
speak it a dozen times.” 

“ Were you introduced to me this afternoon ? ” 

“ No. In fact, I was never introduced to you.” 
Ruggles, in the best of spirits now, and relying fully 
upon his disguise, relished keenly this playing with 
the facts of his peculiar position. 

“ Never introduced to me ! ” repeated Densie, with 
emphasis. “ Then we will stop right where we are.” 
And she suited the action to her words. 

“ Oh, pray don’t ! ” entreated Ruggles. 

“ But I could not think of knowing anybody with- 
out an introduction,” declared Densie. 

“ Come to think of it,” remarked Ruggles, slowly, 
“ I have been introduced to you. I had forgotten all 
about it.” This was said purely in the interests of 


Sheets aiid Pillow-cases. ' 


235 


truth. It had just this moment occurred to our hero 
that he had been once introduced to Densie, at a time 
when both were younger than they were now. 

“ Oh,” said Densie. “ If that is so — ” And she 
took his arm again. 

They went up the front steps together and into the 
door. Under the hall light Ruggles felt that his com- 
panion was scanning him closely. But this did not 
trouble him» One does not fear recognition with one’s 
head wrapped up in a pillow-case so as to disguise 
even the voice. He noticed at this moment that most 
of the company had the advantage of him in that they 
wore masks made of cloth or handkerchiefs. If 
Angus had had any such arrangement, Ruggles had 
overlooked it when he appropriated the equipment. 
He did not mind, however. He had pinned the pillow- 
case about his face so that he could see out very well, 
and without being seen. The dancing had ceased 
some time before, and the maskers were sitting about 
or promenading, many of them passing in and out. 
Densie led the way to a iHe-a-tete that was unoccu- 
pied, and sat down. 

“ Now,” said she, “ the first thing you may do is to 
bring me some ice-cream.” 

Ruggles did not know exactly where he was to get 
any ice-cream for her ; but he noticed that several of 


236 The Story of Ho 7 ior Bright. 

the people about them were taking refreshments 
where they sat ; and surmising that he would find 
them in the dining-room, he made his way thither. 
He found that he was right in this, the refreshments 
being placed there on the table under Elspeth’s care, 
to be taken as desired. 

“ Now,” again said Densie, as he returned with the 
ice-cream, “ sit down here beside me and talk. If 
there is anything I dislike, it is to have all the talking 
to do. If you will tell me who all the gentlemen are 
— so far as you know them — I will tell you who all 
the ladies are.” 

“ Very well,” assented Ruggles. “ Only you must 
begin.” 

“ Well, to begin with myself, I am Densie 
Drew.” 

“Yes,” said Ruggles, “ I knew that by your — by 
your talking so much.” 

“ I think I shall know you hereafter by your rude- 
ness.” 

“ Who is that yonder, reigning over such a host of 
admirers ? ” 

“ That is Miss Pope.” 

“ Ah, a case of Papal supremacy ! ” 

“ How bright you are ! ” 

“ I came of a Bright family.” The pun was not 


Sheets and Pillow-cases. 


237 


exactly a new one, but Ruggles enjoyed it immensely, 
all by himself. 

“ And that lady in the door-way with the palm-leaf 
fan, that is Honor.” 

“ Is that Miss Bright } ” asked Ruggles. 

“ Yes. And I don’t know who it is she is talking 
with. But that girl beyond her, whispering to Mr. 
Merrick, is Edith Browning. Of course they are 
always together. Engaged people are always so. I 
intend to be married some day myself, but I never 
shall be engaged. I think it is horrid. Those three 
girls talking so fast and making such a noise in the 
hall ? One is Mort Wetherell’s sister, and one is Hope 
Harriman.- The other I’m sure I don’t know. That 
is all the ladies there are in sight at this moment. 
Now tell me about the gentlemen. And begin, as I did, 
with yourself. Indeed, I know all the rest already.” 

“ And I don’t know any of the rest,” said Ruggles. 

“ Well, who are you ? ” 

“ I decline to answer. “ I’m not obliged to give 
evidence to criminate myself.” 

“ Do you mean that you won’t tell me ? 

“ Of course I sha’n’t. It’s not fair. You must find 
out.” 

Densie arose and put her empty saucer on a table 
close by. Then she turned back to him. 


238 


The Story of Honor B7'ight. 


“ I ask you once more to tell me your name. I 
will give you half a minute to answer. If you don’t 
tell me in that time, I will go off and leave you, and 
I’ll never speak to you again so long as I live, who- 
ever you are ! ” 

“But — ” began Ruggles, in a tone of remon- 
strance. 

Densie stood in rigid silence, looking straight at the 
wall above his head, as if there were a clock there. 

“ I’ll tell you what I will do,” uttered Ruggles, 
really fearing she would keep her word. “ I’ll tell you 
Vvho I am notT 

Densie still gazed steadfastly at her invisible 
clock, answering not a word. 

“You may name over all the names you can think 
of, and if you name mine I promise to answer to it.” 

Densie made him a formal bow. “The half-minute 
is up,” said she. “ Good evening — or rather, good- 
by forever.” 

And turning on her heel, she walked off towards 
the person she had pointed out as Honor. 

Miss Drew, however, was hardly as angry as she 
pretended, and she was far from having relinquished 
all interest in her late companion. She stopped and 
spoke to Honor a moment, calling her attention to 
Ruggles, and asking her to try and find out who he 


Sheets and Pillow-cases. 


239 


was. He must be somebody whom she herself had 
not met, she said. But of course Honor would know 
him. • 

The result of this was that when Ruggles, tired of 
sitting there alone, had risen and gone out intq the 
hall. Honor followed him and detained him. 

“ I’m afraid you are not having a very good time,’* 
she said. “ I saw you sitting all alone by yourself. 
I would like every one to enjoy himself.” Honor 
made no attempt to hide her own identity. Indeed, 
she could not very well do so and perform the part 
of hostess. “ Can I do anything for you ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Ruggles, without hesitation. “ You can 
walk with me. Will you’ go out-doors somewhere ? 
It is very oppressive here.” 

“I don’t quite like to leave the house,” said Honor. 
“ Can’t we sit down here ? ” 

“ Of course, if you prefer it.” And Ruggles would 
have led the way back to the tete-a-tete. 

“Or,” Honor continued, “I’ll make an agree- 
ment. “You do something for me first, and then I 
will walk out with you.” 

“All right,” responded Ruggles. “What is it?” 

“ I’ve a fan here. You see it is all written over. 
Almost everybody here to-night has written a couplet 
on it. Could you make a rhyme, do you think ? ” 


240 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


“ I don’t know but I might,” said Ruggles. “That 
is, if I was to be paid for it by your walking with 
me.” 

“ If you write as well as you talk, you will do very 
well, I fancy. Come in here to the library ta- 
ble.” 

They went in, and Ruggles, sitting down, was 
handed a pen. 

“If you will look these over,” Honor continued, 
“you will see just what it is that I want. You must 
write a couplet which shall somehow bring in your 
own name.” 

“Ah,” said Ruggles, “that is what you want, is it t 
You and Miss Drew show a most commendable zeal 
in the pursuit of knowledge.” 

He began looking over the verses on the fan. 
Almost all of the company, as Honor had said, had 
written a rhyme on the different segments of it, some 
of them seeming to be very good poetry and some of 
them exceedingly bad. One or two of the couplets, 
written by individuals whom he might be said to know, 
Ruggles slowly read aloud. They will serve as sam- 
ples to the reader. 

“Ah,” murmured Ruggles, turning the fan and 
coming upon Densie Drew’s signature. “This is 
Miss Drew’s, is it? 


Sheets a?id Pillow-cases, 


241 


‘“To write a line upon your fan ? 

Of course I’ll do for you 
What I would do for no one else. 

Yours truly, Densie Drew.* 

“ I am sure, that is very good poetry indeed. And 
here is Mr. Mauran’s : 

“ ‘ ’Tis not so easy, Miss, to write 
One’s name upon a fan. 

Especially a name so long 
As Livingston Mauran.’ *’ 

Then Ruggles sat and thought a moment, drum- 
ming with the handle of the fan upon the table. At 
length, with an air of resolution, he dipped his pen 
in the ink, and then wrote in a quick running hand a 
verse for himself. Then he handed the fan to Honor 
and rose from his seat. 

Honor took the fan and read the lines aloud. 

“ Alas, poor me ! What can I do, 

When asked by Honor Bright, 

To write my name upon her fan, 

But take the pen and write ? ” 

* “ What do you mean ? ” asked she, looking up at 
him puzzled and rather disappointed. “ Where is 
your name ? ” 


242 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


“ It is there,” answered Ruggles, doggedly. 

Honor shook her head. “ I don’t understand,” 
said she. “ Is it Wright t Is that your name ? ” 

“ I can’t say any more. I can only assure you 
upon my word that I’ve written my name there. If 
you can’t see it, it’s not my fault.” 

“ No,” said Honor, “ I can’t see it at all. Is it 
some kind of an anagram — like ‘buried cities,’ you 
know ? ” 

“ I don’t think it fair to ask me any questions,” 
declared Ruggles. “ I’ve performed my part of the 
bargain. Now will you fulfil yours ? ” 

“ It seems to me you haven’t quite done what I 
asked,” said Honor. “ And so I shan’t quite do as 
I said, either. I’ll go and sit on the piazza with you, 
if that will do.” 

“ Very well,” Ruggles agreed ; and they stepped 
out through the window and sat down by themselves 
at one end of the front piazza. 

They sat for a long time and talked together; but 
it would hardly be well to give here a detailed ac- 
count of a conversation which, however pleasant and 
interesting to the speakers themselves, would, I fear, 
somewhat tire the reader. Ruggles certainly had 
not enjoyed another such half-hour for many a day. 
He did most of the talking himself. Honor listening. 





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Sheets and Pillow-cases. 


245 


And although at first what was said was light and 
humorous, rather than serious, it was not long before 
the young fellow quite forgot the peculiar circum- 
stances of the occasion, and fell to talking earnestly 
and soberly, at times waxing fairly eloquent in ad- 
vancing some of his pet theories and ideas, or allud- 
ing to certain grand plans which he cherished. As 
for Honor, she listened with growing interest, and 
found herself at the end of half an hour as keenly 
curious as Densie herself had been to know who this 
unknown person was. 

They were still sitting and talking thus when the 
last-named young*lady by and by came upon them. 

‘‘ Ah, here you are. Honor,” said she. “ I believe 
this gentleman is the person I have promised never 
to speak to again so long as I live. Won’t you ask 
him to go into the house after my fan ? It is a red 
one. He might look on the piano.” 

“ Oh, certainly,” said Ruggles himself, rising. “ I’ll 
get it.” And he went inside. 

The errand had been only a heartless ruse of Den- 
sie’s, however, to furnish an opportunity for inquiring 
if Honor had been able to penetrate the disguise of 
the Unknown. But Honor could tell her nothing, 
save to show her the fan. 

“ I do believe that he is some stranger who has 


246 


The Story of Ho7ior Bright. 


come in,” the latter declared, after trying in vain to 
make anything of our hero’s rhyme. “ Do you know, 
I’ve stood at the door and counted the gentlemen as 
they went in and out, and I have counted the full 
number that ought to be here, without including him 
at all. Who do you suppose he is ? At any rate, we 
shall know when we unmask. Isn’t it about time ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Honor. “ We will go in at once and 
I will give the signal. Our unknown friend does not 
seem to find your fan.” 

“ No; and I don’t think he will,” exclaimed Densie, 
holding up the article itself, which she had held in 
her hand all the while. * 

Then they went in together, arm-in-arm. 

Ruggles’ failure to return had nothing to do with 
the fan, however. Not finding it where Densie had 
directed him, he had suspected some ruse, and 
troubled himself no more about it. But he had met 
at the door of the music-room another person, who 
came r;ear causing him trouble. This was no other 
than Angus. 

“Well,” cried the latter. “If that ain’t my sheet, 
then I’m a lawyer ! I know it by the smooch. Who 
is it ? — Ruggles ? ” 

Ruggles had raised his hand warningly, and Angus 
had lowered his voice towards the last. And luckily. 


Sheets a?id Pillow-cases. 


247 


no third party was near enough to overhear. Rug- 
gles at once drew him aside to the back part of the 
hall, and hastened to extract from him a solemn 
promise not to betray him, which Angus, who was his 
devoted friend, readily gave. It was precisely at 
this instant that Mort Wetherell, standing at the 
foot of the hall stairs with Honor beside him, raised 
his voice and called, “ Attention, company ! ” 

“You all remember the arrangement as to unmask- 
ing,” shouted he. “ The time was to be left indefi- 
nite, and a signal to be given suddenly, each one 
present to then disclose himself exactly where he 
happened to be. I now give that signal ; ” and he 
struck his hands loudly together. 

With the majority of the company, as they now 
quickly discarded their snowy disguises, we have 
nothing just now to do. But as to the fate of one of 
them, who, as may well be imagined, was quite unpre- 
pared for this sudden unmasking, the reader will nat- 
urally feel a little anxious. 

“I guess you’re in for it now whispered Angus 
to Ruggles, as Mort concluded. 

But Ruggles was a person of action ; and he had 
not the slightest intention of having his escapade dis- 
covered. He seized Angus by the collar. 

“Here,” said he, “show me out ^ the back way. 


24^ The Story of Honor Bright. 

quick ! ” And he moved toward the dining-room. 

“ No,” gasped Angus. “ Mother’s in there. ’Twon’t 
do. There’s a back stairway, though. Come along ! ” 
He turned and led the way up a somewhat dark 
stairway, Ruggles following, and they came out at 
the rear end of the upper hall. 



A DETECTIVE. 


“ You’ll have to hide yourself in my room for a little,’ ’ 
said Angus. He led the way in. “There ! Get out 
that window on to the'piazza-roof. That’ll be better. 
And when there’s nobody round, you can drop off.” 

So Ruggles quickly tore off his borrowed plumage, 
and in another moment he had disappeared outside 
the window. • 


CHAPTER XVI. 


WHAT HAS BECOME OF ANGUS? 

T he next morning, while breakfast was in prog- 
ress, there was sudden consternation and alarm 
at Hollownook. Angus having failed to respond to 
several extra bells, and finally to his father’s stern call 
from the bottom of the back stairway, the latter had 
gone quickly up to the boy’s door. To his surprise he 
found it locked, and there was no answer to his knock. 
Raising his voice, he made sure that Angus could not 
be within ; and then, more provoked than alarmed, 
he went back down-stairs. It was probably one of 
Angus’ stupid tricks. 

Mrs. Murdoch, however, became immediately un- 
easy. She got up and went to the dining-room win- 
dow, and thus discovered that a ladder, which was 
usually kept in the stable, had been left standing 
against the piazza, close by Angus’ window. Mr. 
249 


250 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


Murdoch went out and ascended by this ladder to 
the roof above, and entered the room by the open 
window. A moment later he came out by the door 
and hurried down-stairs. He held a soiled, maroon- 
colored silk handkerchief in one hand and a piece of 
sponge in the other ; and there was now a look of 
decided alarm on his face. Both Honor and Densie, 
the instant their eyes fell upon the handkerchief, 
recognized it as the one they had seen the afternoon 
before in the hands of the stranger who had been 
struck by the chance arrow. And then, when it was 
found that there was a slight, but unmistakable odor 
of chloroform about the sponge, and a careful search 
about the house and grounds established the fact 
that Angus was certainly missing, what had at first 
suggested itself to the minds of all like a nameless 
fear, became an almost certain fact — that the house 
had been entered daring the night, and that Angus 
had heefi stolefi! As this distressing conclusion 
seemed at length to -be inevitable, Mrs. Murdoch 
became almost wild with grief, and the other mem- 
bers of the family, although much more calm than 
she, were scarcely less affected. 

Mr. Murdoch immediately hurried off to the barn, 
and, while Ruggles at his bidding was saddling Black 
Douglas, he briefly explained the matter to him and 


What has Become of Angus? 251 

told him what he wanted. Then, as our hero put his 
foot in the stirrup, Mr. Murdoch handed him a tele- 
gram which he had hastily scrawled, together with a 
roll of bills. 

“ You may need the money,” said he. “ Go to the 
station at once with the dispatch. It is for a detec- 
tive. See if you can find out anything there, and 
then ride on as fast as you can to East Chester and 
Littleton. If you get any clew come back at once. 
If you don’t, go around by Elyotville and the river. 
They must have gone through some of those places. 
I shall harness Zamp and go down to Squire Orton’s. 
But I depend most upon you. If they once get 
fairly off with Angus, it’s one chance in a thousand 
if we ever see him again. For the sake of the boy’s 
mother, you’ll do all you can, my lad. I’ll never for- 
get it. Come, now, off with you ! ” He grasped Bug- 
gies’ hand as he finished, and his voice choked. 

I think you can trust me,” was all Ruggles said 
in reply. Indeed, he had hardly spoken a word — 
only listened and thought — while Mr. Murdoch had 
been talking. He felt even more certain than the 
other that Herron was at the bottom of the matter, 
and he had been on the point of saying so when 
the tramp was mentioned ; but a second thought 
prompted him to hold his tongue. It did not seem 


252 The Story of Honor Bright 

to him necessary to mention his own connection with 
the suspected individual. But he thought to himself, 
as he rode out of the stable and down the drive, that 
he was the person to catch Herron, if anybody was ; 
and he made up his mind to do it. 

Then Mr. Murdoch drove over to Squire Orton^s ; 
and after a brief consultation, a constable was de- 
spatched in a direction opposite to that taken by 
Ruggles, telegrams were written and sent to various 
points round about, and some bills were prepared 
containing descriptions of Angus and his supposed 
abductor and offering a reward for the capture of 
either. Then the distressed father returned home to 
comfort his wife as well as he could and wait for the 
coming of the officer. He had telegraphed to head- 
quarters for a skilled detective to come out by the 
next train, and he felt that nothing more could be 
done until the latter’s arrival. 

The detective came at eleven o’clock. A carriage 
had been at the train to bring him over. He was a 
short, square-shouldered man, plainly dressed. He 
had small, questioning eyes, a shrewd, suspicious 
mouth ; and indeed, all over his face one seemed 
to see written, “ No trust here.” His training and 
experience were probably not such as to have made 


JV^at has Become of Angus ? 


253 


him over-confident of the goodness of human nature. 
The name upon his card was Clewer. 

Mr. Clewer was a man of few words. He listened 
in silence, save for a brief question or two, to Mr. 
Murdoch’s account of the affair, and then asked to be 
shown up-stairs. 

Angus’ room was exactly as Mr. Murdoch had 
found it at breakfast-time, except that the sponge and 
handkerchief had been picked up from the floor. 
These Mr. Clewer had already seen. The bed was 
tumbled, showing it had been slept in, and the bed- 
clothing lay partially on the floor. There was a sheet 
and pillow-case a little way off, evidently, as was 
explained to the visitor, that worn by Angus the 
night before. The door of a clothes-press stood 
open and also -a drawer of the bureau. The detective 
stood in the middle of the room for a full minute, liis 
quick glance travelling all about him. Nothing 
escaped his eye. He saw a pin on the carpet at his 
feet and stooped to pick it up, putting it in his coat. 
He espied a small, black object, which proved to be 
a button, lying near one of the bed-castors ; and this 
also he picked up, quickly slipping it into his vest 
pocket. He went presently and examined the 
clothing hung in the press, which act led to the 
discovery that two suits of Angus^ clothes had been 


254 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


taken, as also some articles of underwear from the 
bureau. Then he stepped out through the window 
upon the piazza roof. There was nothing noticeable 
there save the ladder, as to which he simply inquired 
where it was usually kept. 

Then the two went down again to the library; and 
sitting down by the table, the visitor, without yet 
expressing any opinion, proceeded to put very rapidly 
question after question to Mr. Murdoch, of many of 
which the latter gentleman was quite unable to see in 
any way the bearing upon the case in hand. Then, 
after he seemed thus to have asked all the questions 
he could possibly think of, Mr. Clewer returned 
finally to a subject that he had already inquired very 
particularly about — that is, as to the present mem- 
bers of the family. He wanted to know all about the 
servants, too, asking many questions as to the char- 
acter and history of each, especially Ruggles. 

“ Can I see this coachman — Ruggles, did you call 
him ? ” he asked at length. “ Ah ! you said you had 
sent him off to make inquiries. And you have a 
sister living with you. Can I see her ? ” 

So Honor was sent for and came down at once 
leaving Densie with Mrs. Murdoch. 

“ I wanted to ask you about this handkerchief,” 
Mr. Clewer began at once, motioning toward the 


JV/iaf has Become of Angus? 255 

article named, as it lay on the table beside him. 
“You thought you had seen it before ? ” 

“Yes,” answered Honor. “ The tramp — if he was 
a tramp — had it in his hand yesterday.” 

“Please tell me about this tramp — just what 
happened and how he looked.” 

So Honor described quite fully what had taken 
place the afternoon before. 

“ And you say this person had this handkerchief 
in his hand and was holding it to his head ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“ How do you know it is the same handkerchief ” 

“ I know it from the color and the border, and — 
well I am quite sure it is the same.” 

“ But there is no blood on it. You say he was 
holding it over his wound.” 

“Yes; but nobody believed that he was wounded 
at all. He only wanted to get some money. I think 
you may be certain it is the same handkerchief. My 
friend and myself both recognized it instantly when 
Mr. Murdoch brought it down this morning. I think 
you may trust a woman’s eyes in such matters.” And 
Honor smiled faintly. 

The detective smiled also. “ I think I can, too,” 
said he. “ And I have little doubt that this handker- 
chief belongs to the tramp. We must try and restore 


N ' ■ ■■ ' 

256 The Story of Honor Bright. 

it to him. You do not know of his having been seen 
about the place — this tramp — either before or 
since ? ” 

Honor did not know that he had. 

“ Did he go back the way he had come ? 

“ No : he went down towards the Nook.” And she 
explained to Mr. Clewer what the Nook was. 

“And he was not seen by any one after that.?” 

“ Not so far as I know,” Honor answered. And 
then, after an instant, she added musingly, “ unless 
Ruggles saw him.” 

“ Ruggles ? That is the coachman. You think he 
may have seen this stranger later ? ” 

“ Why, no — that is, I don’t know. I saw Ruggles 
go down toward the Nook a little while before ; and 
he may have met him.” 

The detective was silent a moment. 

“ This Ruggles is a very good coachman, I believe ? 
he presently resumed. 

“ Yes : he seems to understand horses, perfectly.” 

“ And a good servant in every respect ? ” 

“ Oh, yes. I haven’t a particle of fault to find with 
him, unless — ” Honor hesitated. 

“ Unless ? ” — Mr. Clewer followed up closely. 

“ Why, he sometimes seems to feel a little above 
his business. And when I have tried to show him 



\ 



JV/ia^ has Become of Angus ? 257 

his place, he has been a little sullen. I have hardly 
known what to make of him lately. He is very much 
changed from what he was when he first came here. 
He seems moody and discontented, and nevei; speaks 
unless I speak to him first.” 

“ Ah ! ” said the detective. “ Thank you. I may 
want to ask you something more later in the day. 
And now can I see this young lady, your friend, who 
is staying with you ? ” 

Densie, thus summoned, did not come down for 
some minutes. She always kept gentlemen waiting, 
on principle. Besides, her crimps had to be combed 
out, even though she cared nothing particularly about 
this detective. Indeed, she declared, in a voice quite 
loud enough to be heard by the subject of her re- 
marks, that she had no doubt he was horrid. 

Mr. Clewer did not get impatient, however. He 
had enough to occupy his mind while he was waiting. 
And, indeed, when at last she did come in, he seemed 
hardly to notice her, sitting in deep thought for a 
long minute thereafter — a circumstance that only 
confirmed Miss Densie in her high opinion of him. 
He looked up at her at last, however. 

“ Miss True, I believe .? ” he asked quietly. 

“Miss Drew., if you please,” responded Densie, 
with great dignity. 


258 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


“ I beg pardon. I misunderstood the name. Miss 
Drew, I am told you think this handkerchief is the 
one the tramp had in his hands yesterday.” 

“ I don’t think so — I know so,” responded Densie. 

“ How do you know it ? ” 

“ I saw him with it, of course.” 

“But how do you know you saw him with it?” 
persisted the detective. 

“ How do I know that I see you ? ” demanded 
Densie, rather unanswerably. 

“ But I and a pocket-handkerchief are very differ- 
ent things.” 

“ Indeed ! ” 

“ However,” Mr. Clewer went on, “ I dare say you 
aie right as to its being the same. But about this 
stranger. Do you think you would know him if you 
saw him again ? ” 

“ Yes, I do,” returned Densie, positively. 

“ What makes you think so ? ” 

“ Because I saw him again, and knew him at once.” 

“ Ah ! Tell me about it, please.” 

“ That is, I suppose I saw him again. I’m not quite 
sure now. If I am not to believe my eyes about the 
handkerchief, I suppose they’re not to be trusted 
when I think I see a man.^^ 

“ ril trust them in that matter any time,” put in 


What has Become of Angus? 


259 


- Mr. Murdoch, with a half-hearted attempt at humor. 

“You saw the tramp again, did you? ” Mr. Clewer 
went on quickly. “ Tell me about it.” 

Whereupon Densie described the meeting she and 
Mort Wetherell had witnessed in the woods back of 
the Nook, just before tea the previous night. So 
many things had been going on since then that the 
incident had not occurred to her until this moment. 
And indeed she had not thought it of special conse- 
quence. She told the story now in so thoughtless 
and voluble a way that her listener was constantly 
obliged to keep her to the point ; and she was so 
careless of details that, in questioning her sharply, he 
more than once made her flatly contradict herself. 
When at last he had succeeded in getting at the pure 
facts of the case (which possibly seemed to him of 
much more importance than they did to Densie) the 
young lady had worked herself into a state of the 
most intense wrath and indignation. When she had 
finished, Mr. Clewer sat for some moments in com- 
plete silence again, seemingly quite forgetful of the 
other two. 

Densie endured this state of things as long as she 
could. Then she arose. 

“ Well, sir,” said she, highly exasperated, “ have 
you done with me ? ” 


26 o 


The Story of Hoiior Bright, 


Mr. Clewer ' looked up at her as though he had 
never seen her before. 

“ May I ask if you have finished your inquisition ? ” 

Mr. Clewer smiled. 

“ Oh, yes ; you may go now, if you like. I hope. 
Miss Drew, you will never be called upon to testify 
in a court of justice.” 

‘‘ And why not, pray? ” inquired Densie. 

“ Because you would be about as poor a witness as 
I can imagine,” returned Mr. Clewer coolly. And 
then, as though she had already gone, he dropped his 
eyes and went back to his thoughts again. 

Mr. Murdoch sat and watched his companion in 
silence after Densie had retired. At length he went 
and laid his hand on the detective’s shoulder. 

“ Well, Mr. Clewer,” said he, “ what do you make 
of it ? Is there any light so far ? ” 

“Oh, yes ; a great deal of light.” 

“ Can you find me my boy ? ” Mr. Murdoch was 
not a man to show feeling, but there was real woe in 
the voice that asked the question. 

“ Oh, there is not a doubt of that,” was the assur- 
ing answer. “ Why, what do you suppose they want 
of the boy ? It is only a question of how much they 
can make you pay to get him back. You will hear 
from them before long. And meanwhile, you may be 


IVAaf has Become of Angus? 261 

sure they will take the best possible care of him. But 
what I want is to get him back fox iiothing^ and the 
kidnappers along with him. There really is nothing 
to worry about, Mr. Murdoch. Go tell your wife that 
I say so. But we can do nothing further now until 
we hear from the men we sent out this morning. 
Now, if you will excuse me, I would like some dinner.” 

“ You shall have it at once,” was the answer. “ I 
have ordered it at two to-day.” 

While Mr. Murdoch and his guest were at table 
(none of the ladies came down) the constable re- 
turned, announcing that no trace of the fugitives was 
to be found along any of the roads or at the towns 
which he had driven through. Mr. Murdoch was 
greatly disappointed ; but he still comforted himself 
with the hope that Ruggles would bring a different 
story. 

After dinner, Mr. Clewer, who seemed to take the 
whole matter very easily, lighted a cigar and strolled 
out into the grounds. Amid the flower-beds he 
presently came upon Donald Campbell. He paused 
beside him, and stood watching the old man work for 
some moments, without saying a word, pufflng away at 
his cigar with his hands in his pockets. When at length 
he thought he had fairly taken Donald’s measure, he 
ventured to address him. 


262 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


“ You keep it looking pretty nice around here,” he 
began. “ Do you -attend to it all yourself ? ” 

“ An’ wha did ye think did it beside ? ” growled 
Donald, not looking up at all. 

“I didn’t know but there was some other man 
about the place.” 

A contemptuous grunt was all the answer Donald 
made to this. 

“ I thought perhaps you might have a boy or some- 
thing to help you — an assistant, you know.” 

“There is sic ah ane aboot the place ; but as for 
assestance, he’s nae mair gude than a pair o’ bag- 
pipes in a deif an’ dumb asylum. He’s fit for nae- 
thing but to ride aboot the country.” 

“ You mean the coachman,” said the detective. 
“ I understand Miss Bright thinks a great deal of 
him.” 

The only reply Donald vouchsafed to this was a 
kind of snort, as he dug his spade deep down into 
the ground. 

“ And he certainly is a very, honest, manly young 
fellow,” persisted Mr. Clewer. 

The old man suddenly flung down his spade, and, 
straightening up, held out both his bony fists, half 
clenched, before him, and shook them with great ve- 
hemence. 



OLD DONALD. 263 





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What has Become of August 265 

“ Honest ? ” repeated he, his cracked voice pitched 
in the key of indignant wrath. “ Honest an’ manly, 
do ye say ? I wadna trust him oot o’ sicht an 
eenstant. Wha kens onything aboot him ? — a heep- 
ocreetical, leein sunk thet was pickit oop in the road 
withoot a shillin’. Hoots ! He canna deceive Don 
aid Cawmill as he does the leddies. I wadna wonner 
if he had a clo’en fit in ilk ane o’ his shune. An 
he’ll show it, soon or late, as sure as there’s a par- 
sonal de’il.” 

Ahd Donald, who had never forgiven Ruggles for 
coming to Hollownook, and who thoroughly believed 
all this that he had been saying, having thus worked 
himself into a boiling passion, fell to loosening the 
earth about one of his shrubs again ; and not another 
word could Mr. Clewer get out of him. 

The detective presently wandered around to the 
stable, where he lingered all by himself for some time, 
examining its appointments inside and out with great 
apparent interest. Then he walked down through 
the village, stopping at the store to write and mail a 
letter or two, and making various inquiries about the 
village. 

It was after five when he reappeared at Hollow- 
nook, coming slowly up to the front piazza where Mr. 
Murdoch was sitting by himself. And while the two 


266 The Story of Honor Bright. 

were talking together, the gallop of a horse was heard, 
and the next moment Ruggles came riding in. 

As they halted at the steps, both horse and rider 
plainly gave evidence of having done a hard day’s 
work. But a single glance at Ruggles’ face showed 
that it had been of no avail. And his story, quickly 
told, seemed to take away all hope of immediately 
finding the lost child. He had been to all the points 
Mr. Murdoch had named, and to several others, mak- 
ing constant inquiries and notifying the authorities. 
But not a single trace of the fugitives had he 
found. 

While Ruggles was speaking, the detective had sat 
there in his chair, watching him closely. As the lad 
moved on, Mr. Murdoch turned to him and said : 

“ I don’t see a particle of hope, so far, Mr. Clewer. 
What am I to do ? Here is a whole day passed 
already, and we are no nearer catching the rascals 
than we were this morning.” 

“ On the contrary,” said the detective very quietly, 
“ we are much nearer catching them than we were this 
morning. The young man who has just left us was 
in Angus’ room last night ; he helped kidnap the boy, 
and he probably knows pcetty nearly where he is at 
this moment.” 


CHAPTER XXVII. 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 

L ater in the evening — just at twilight indeed, 
and the lamps were lighted in the house — 
Donald Campbell brought word to Ruggles that he 
was wanted in the library. As quickly as he could, 
therefore, he finished the bed he was making for 
Douglas, of whom he was specially careful after the 
hard day’s ride, and obeyed the summons. 

He found in the library quite a little group gathered. 
Both the young ladies were there. Honor in an easy- 
chair, with a sacque-pattern on her lap, which she had 
been embroidering for Densie (although she could 
have had little heart for work just now), and Densie 
herself seated on a hassock at her feet. Mr. Mur- 
doch was walking up and down the room with a rest- 
lessness not at all usual with him ; and the detective 
was again sitting by the table. The simple “good- 
267 


26S The Story of Honor Bright. ^ 

evening ” which Honor alone vouchsafed him hardly 
served to break a sort of chilling silence that filled 
the room as Ruggles entered, and which he could not 
help but feel, though he did not comprehend it. 

The young man stood respectfully, ^ hat in hand, 
until Mr. Murdoch bade him be seated. 

“ Mr. Clewer wants to ask you a question or two,” 
said he. 

“ Yes,” said Mr. Clewer, at once taking charge of 
the conversation. “ There are several things I should 
like you to explain to me if you can; and you may 
possibly have some information that will be useful. 
You are Mr. Murdoch’s coachman?” 

“Yes,” answered Ruggles. “ Or Miss Bright’s. I 
take care of the horses and do most of the driving.” 

“You have a room in the stable — and sleep 
there?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“You slept there last night?” 

“Yes.” 

“ Did you hear any noise of any sort during the 
night?” 

“No, sir; not that I remember.” 

“ Are you a good sleeper?” 

“Well, yes; although I am easily awakened.” 

“Would it be possible, do you think, to roll back 


RUGGLES ACCUSED. 


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Circumstantial Evidence. 


271 


the carriage-room door and close it again without 
awakening you ? ” 

“ I don’t know. Perhaps so.’^ 

“Are you aware that the door squeaks a good deal ? ” 
“ I am aware that it did squeak a good deal until I 
oiled it, a little while ago.” 

“Ah!” Mr. Clewer seemed to have a habit — of 
which he must have been quite unconscious — of say- 
ing “ Ah ! ’’ whenever anything struck him as specially 
interesting or satisfactory. “You oiled it a little 
while ago, then ? How long ago, let me ask.” 

“ About sixty minutes ago, I should say,” Ruggles 
answered, smiling. He was quite willing to be exact, 
if that was what was wanted. 

Mr. Clewer paused and dropped his eyes a single 
moment, as one might who was writing down a point : 
only he had neither pencil nor paper. 

“Mr. Ruggles,” he began again, “have you any 
theory about this business ? What do you suppose 
Has become of Angus ? ” 

“ I suppose he has been stolen — kidnapped.” 

“ Precisely. And if he has been kidnapped, then 
somebody must have kidnapped him. Have you any 
idea who that somebody may have been ? ” 

“ I have the same idea that I supposed everybody 
else had — that the person who was seen around here 


272 


The Story of Honor _ Bright, 


yesterday, and whose handkerchief was found in 
Angus’ room — that he had something to do with it. 
Indeed, IVe no doubt of it. He is quite capable 
of it.” 

“What makes you think he is quite capable of it? 
Do you know him ? ” 

“ Anybody might see it in his face.” 

“ And when have you seen his face? You were 
not on the lawn, I believe, when he appeared there ? ” 
“ No,” said Ruggles, rather slowly, “ I was not.” 
“And yet you have seen him ? ” 

“Yes.” Ruggles answered promptly this time. 
He would have preferred that the fact of his pre- 
vious acquaintance with Herron should not come 
out ; but, after all, it mattered little. The latter was 
not likely to turn up again, to betray our hero’s real 
position. “ Yes,” said he, “ I saw him yesterday 
morning. I knew him awhile ago, out West. His 
reputation was none of the best. And if he would 
steal horses, why, I think very likely he would steal 
children.” _ • 

This statement did not seem to occasion anybody 
present particular surprise. The detective had doubt- 
less learned the fact of Ruggles’ previous acquaint- 
ance with the stranger in his inquiries about the 
village ; and probably it had been talked over before 


Circumstantial Evidence. 


273 


Ruggles came in. Mr. Clewer did not dwell upon 
it now. 

“ Did you see this person at any other time than 
this ? ” he went on. 

Ruggles hesitated. He had no idea that anybody 
knew of his second meeting with Herron ; and he 
saw at once that any acknowledgment of it would 
lead to an inquiry as to what passed between them, 
and so again the matter of his real name and position 
would be involved. Mr. Clewer pushed him closely, 
however. 

“ You were seen to go down through the Nook 
about three o’clock,” said he. “ And since the tramp, 
a little later, went off in the same direction, it was 
thought you might possibly have met him.” 

“ Yes,” said Ruggles decidedly. “ I did meet 
him.” He had no thought of lying about the 
matter. 

“ Did you speak to him ? ” pursued the questioner. 

“ Yes.” 

“ Do you remember what was said ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“ Be good enough to tell us what it was.” 

Ruggles again took a single moment to think. 

“ Excuse me,” he then said, “ I would rather not. 
I have told you that I knew this man before. What 


/ 


274 The Story of HoJior Bright. 

passed between us grew out of that fact, and con- 
cerned myself alone. I would prefer to say nothing 
about it.” 

Mr. Murdoch, who all the while had not ceased 
pacing up and down the room, halted abruptly now 
and turned toward the speaker with a look of impa- 
tient surprise. And there was a little whispering 
and murmur between Densie and Honor. Mr. 
Clewer- alone was unmoved as ever. 

“ Never mind,” said he. “ It does not matter.” 
Then he again sat and looked down in silence for 
some little time — long enough to have written out 
quite a paragraph with his imaginary pen upon his 
imaginary paper. 

^ “ There is one thing more,” he began again pres- 
ently. “Are you in the habit of going into Angus’ 
room ? ” 

' “ No, sir.” 

“ Have you ever been there at all ? ” 

“ Yes, I have.” 

“ Have you ever been there more than once ? ” 

“ No, sir.” The answer was not instantly given. 
“Was that once within the last twenty-four hours ? 
Was it last night ? ” 

Once more for a moment our hero had nothing to 
say. If he confessed to having been in Angus’ room 


Circumstantial Evidence. 275 

the night before, he would have to give some expla- 
nation of the fact ; and he was by no means ready to 
acknowledge that he had donned a sheet and pillow- 
case and intruded among the guests the previous 
evening — a thing that of course he had not the least 
right to do, and which, as he had thought of it in 
soberer moments since, he had felt' not a little 
ashamed of. And there was, naturally enough, some- 
thing of confusion that might easily have been mis- 
taken for guilt in his manner, as at length he replied : 

“I — I would rather not say anything about it.” 

Mr. Murdoch, who had been standing still, await- 
ing the issue of this last series of questions, uttered 
a decided exclamation as this answer was given ; and 
Densie and Honor both appeared astonished. Mr. 
Clewer, however, merely smiled. 

“Very well,” he observed. “ It makes little dif- 
ference whether you say anything or not. Here is 
something that will answer for you — and quite 
unequivocally.” 

He held up to view all at once a black gutta-percha 
button, such as is frequently worn with suits of 
yachting-cloth or flannel. 

“I found it on the floor in Angus’ room,” he ex- 
plained. “I am told that the room was swept 
yesterday morning, so that it must have been dropped 


276 The Story of Honor Bright. 

there since then. And I noticed as you drove up 
to-night ” — he was still addressing himself to 
Ruggles — “that this matched those upon your coat, 
one of which seemed to be missing. Permit me to 
restore it to you.” 

Ruggles came forward and took the button. 

“ Thank you,” said he, with perfect self-possession. 
“ I noticed that it was gone as I was riding along this 
morning.” 

His manner was unaccountable, even to the detect- 
ive, though it did not alter that gentleman’s opinion 
in the least. The lad could not but understand by 
this time that he himself was suspected of complicity 
in the matter of Angus’ abduction, and that the 
grounds for such suspicion were exceedingly strong. 
And yet he betrayed neither alarm nor confusion. 
Mr. Clewer was actually beginning to feel a sort of 
professional admiration for him. 

“And have you nothing to say for yourself, 
Ruggles, in answer to all this ? ” burst out Mr. 
Murdoch, unable to control himself any longer. 
“ Have you really been helping them to steal my 
boy ? ” 

Ruggles looked up at him, and then around at them 
all, with an annoyed and indignant air. 

“ Am I actually to understand, then,” asked he 


Circumstantial Evidence. 


277 

distinctly, “that you believe me to have had any- 
thing to do with the matter ? ” 

Mr. Murdoch opened his lips to reply, but the de- 
tective motioned him to keep silence. 

“ Excuse me,” he said, “ but I have not quite done. 
I must say, young man, that you do yourself credit. 
You can hardly be new at the business. You have 
the air of innocence itself. But it cannot avail you. 
You do not realize how complete and clear is the evi- 
dence against you. Sit down a moment and let us go 
over the case together. You shall see for yourself how 
it looks.” 

Ruggles went back to his chair without a word ; and 
Mr. Clewer, pausing a moment, as if to arrange his 
facts, proceeded to recite them in a direct, concise 
sort of way, looking straight down into his lap all the 
while, as though reading now from his invisible paper. 

“The evidence against you,” he began, “is, of 
course, purely circumstantial ; but it is of the strong- 
est kind. I assume, to begin with, that the handker- 
chief there, found in Angus’ bedroom this morning, 
is the same which was seen in the hands of this 
tramp yesterday afternoon, and that it connects him 
directly with the abduction. 

“ Now, as to yourself : the facts seem to be, briefly, 
these ; 


278 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


First — This tramp, by your own admission, and 
on the testimony of at least half a dozen people in 
the village, who witnessed your meeting on the Green 
yesterday morning, is an old friend — or, at least, an 
old acquaintance — of yours. It certainly is a very 
strange coincidence if he has accidentally come here 
where you are without any communication with 
you. And on the other hand, if it was you who 
brought him here, it was very stupid in you (and it 
hardly seems like you) to have publicly met and rec- 
ognized him. as you did. 

“ Secondly — In addition to some private conversa- 
tion which you had with this person at this time, you 
met him again (as you admit), and certain conversa- 
tion (which you, as yet, neither admit nor deny, but 
which was overheard by two perfectly reliable 
persons) passed between you, of a most suspicious 
character, and quite unaccountable upon any sup- 
position save that there was a plot between you to — 
as has since appeared — kidnap Mr. Murdoch’s 
child. You gave him some money ; there was a 
* bargain ’ alluded to ; your companion was distinctly 
heard to say that he would be off with the boy 
to-night ; and something followed, spoken in a 
foreign language. 

“ Thirdly — The ladder by which the room was 


Circumstantial Evidence. - 279 

reached was usually kept in the 'carriage-room of the 
stable, and is known to have been in its place last 
night. It could not have been taken from there 
without opening the big door, and that door could not 
have been opened without a noise such as can 
be heard all over the place (I tried it this afternoon), 
and sych as must, it would seem, have awakened 
any one sleeping in the barn, as was the case with 
you. And yet you deny having heard it. You 
acknowledge, also, that to-night you took pains to oil 
the wheel of the door and stop its squeaking, a cir- 
cumstance that may, of course, mean nothing at all, 
but that might, on the other hand, indicate that you 
had thought that the matter might come up later, and 
were wise enough to take care of it. 

'•'‘Fourthly — Besides the handkerchief of the 
tramp and the sponge (which had been used, pre- 
sumably, to chloroform the child), there was also 
found in the room a button which, it is altogether 
likely, was dropped there at the same time. This 
button is found to have formerly had its place upon 
your coat, and you say yourself that you did not miss 
it until this morning. It would seem to indicate, 
therefore, that you also (as well as your vagrant 
friend) had been in the room sometime during the 
night. And when you are questioned as to the 


2 So The Story of Honor Bright. 

matter, you decline to give any explanation of it, and 
do not even deny having been in the room during the 
night. 

'‘'‘Fifthly — Taking all this together, I put with it 
the facts that of your past history and character, up 
to a month or more ago, nothing at all is known save 
that at some time during that history you have been 
more or less intimate with a person whom you yourself 
have insinuated to be a horse-thief, and that, aside from 
the question of money (for of course you and your 
friend look to getting some money ultimately as the 
condition of restoring the child), there seems to be in 
your case an additional motive, or at least an impulse, 
growing out of the fact that you are believed to have 
felt yourself somewhat ill-used in being expected to 
know and keep your place as a servant here, and that 
you of late have maintained constantly a sullenness a.nd 
reserve which you did not show at first, and which, 
considering your evident talent for concealment, may 
indicate a feeling even deeper than appears. 

“ That, I believe, sums up the case. You must see 
that it is a very serious showing for you. Now is the 
time for you to answer Mr. Murdoch’s question, if 
you really have anything to say for yourself. Your 
explanations, so far, can hardly be said to have 
amounted to much.” 


Circumstantial Evidence, 


281 


To understand Ruggles’ conduct now, it will be 
necessary to bear in mind just what sort of a person 
he was, and all the circumstances of the case, which 
of course the reader knows far more about than any 
of those who were in the room with him. 

Ruggles was not a person to be easily frightened 
or upset about anything; and in the present case, 
of course, he was entirely innocent. Yet, conscience- 
clear and fearless as he was, he might well have been 
alarmed at the formidable array of evidence brought 
against him, but for the simple fact that he knew per- 
fectly well that he could, at any moment, if he chose, 
open his mouth and speak the word that would com- 
pletely demolish that evidence. Nothing could in 
itself have been easier than to tell them outright who 
he really was, and explain in that connection his rela- 
tions with the tramp and his visit to Angus’ room. 

Why, then, did he not do this ? 

One would think that the present circumstances 
might have impelled him to such a disclosure at last. 
And here comes in the peculiar notions and character 
of the youth. There was in him a vein of obstinacy and 
persistence that, not at all a bad thing of itself when 
properly controlled, now and then got the better of him. 
It was this that had taken him off to sea three years 
before. It was this that determined his conduct now. 


282 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


Whatever had been his intention when he first came to 
Hollownook under an assumed name, there had later 
sprung up in him a notion — it may never have taken 
the shape of a definite purpose in his mind — that he 
might after all go away again without telling them 
who he was. He certainly had thought very seriously, 
and had been getting to think more and more, of actu- 
ally leaving his name and fortune where he had come 
home to find it — with this young lady at Hollownook 
— and going back into the world to seek a name and 
fortune for himself on his own merits. Possibly then 
he might come back and tell his true story when 
there was thus more of it to tell. Indeed, I will not 
say there was not a background of boyish romance to 
all this extravagant dream. Perhaps he saw himself 
coming back by and by and laying his trophies down 
at the feet of this same young lady who had formerly 
felt so much above him. Ruggles was a genuine boy 
still, albeit a manly one. 

And all at once he finds himself standing here in 
the library before this famous detective, and with such 
a network of circumstantial evidence thrown about 
him by that ingenious individual that it seems likely 
he will be obliged to disclose his real position in 
order to clear himself. And doubtless a more timid 
or a less obstinate young person would at once have 


Circumstantial Evidenct. 


283 


done so, then and there. But, strangely enough, upon 
Ruggles the present difficulty had an effect precisely 
opposite. It only served to fix and confirm this 
notion of keeping his identity to himself. He said 
to himself now, that whatever come of it he would 
never be forced into disclosing himself. 

All of which must go to help the reader understand 
truly (as his hearers could not possibly do) the words 
in which Ruggles replied to the detective’s final 
question. 

“ You asked me, a little while ago,” he began, his 
manner cool and ironical, rather than excited, “if I 
had any theory as to this business. It is quite evi- 
dent at least that you have a theory, and that you 
feel bound to establish it, whether the facts warrant 
it or not. You are not the only detective that has 
first picked out his criminal and then proceeded to 
fasten a crime upon him. You ask me what I have 
to say in answer to this evidence. I have simply to 
say that, in spite of it all, I know absolutely nothing 
(further than the rest of you know) about Angus’ dis- 
appearance ; and I am as innocent of any connection 
with it as Mr. Murdoch himself. I assure you, upon 
my honor as a gentleman ” — he looked around him 
almost fiercely, as if he dared any one there at that 
moment to dispute his title to the name — “that 


2 $4 Story of Honor Bright. 

I could this moment explain every point you have 
made (except, perhaps, that as to the ladder, which 
is of no consequence whatever) to your entire satis- 
faction, if I chose. For reasons of my own, I do not 
choose But, Mr. Murdoch, whatever you think or 
do as to me., do not, I beg of you, go on with the 
search on the assumption that I am guilty. This 
man Herron (the tramp) is undoubtedly at the bottom 
of the affair. He had a companion with him — a 
short, thick-set fellow. He was the ‘ Boy ’ alluded to 
in the wood. I will give you an exact description of 
them both. They must be found at once if you hope 
to get Angus back.” 

Ruggles stopped speaking, and stood looking 
eagerly from Mr. Murdoch to the detective. He had 
for the moment, in his anxiety about Angus, quite 
forgotten himself. 

Mr. Clewer regarded him with a quiet smile. 

“ We shall certainly do all that we can to find the 
boy, independently of your connection with the 
matter,” said he. “ But it will be better for you if 
you tell us all you know.” He evidently did not 
believe at all in Ruggles’ innocence. 

Ruggles turned gravely to Mr. Murdoch. 

“ Do you believe me guilty too, sir ? ” 

Mr. Murdoch looked at him with a troubled face. 


Circumstantial Evidence. 


28s 


“I confess I do not know what to think,” said he, 
“ Yet what else can I think but that you had some- 
thing to do with it, unless you can explain these 
proofs.” 

“ Then,” said Ruggles proudly, “ it is time I went 
away from here.” And he turned to leave the 
room. 

“ No,” spoke the detective quietly. “ It is not 
time you went away from here.” His tone was more 
significant than the words. 

“ Do you mean that I am to be arrested ? ” de- 
manded Tuggles angrily. Yet what else could he 
have expected 1 

But Mr. Murdoch interfered. 

“ No, no,” said he. “ Not that. I don’t believe 
he will run away. Give me your word, Ruggles, that 
you won’t do that.” 

“ I give you my word,” said Ruggles grimly. And 
then he added with a tinge of bitterness, “ I am too 
tired to-night to run very far or very fast.” 

Half way to the door he halted abruptly and 
looked towards Honor. 

I should like to ask Miss Bright if she believes 
all this of me, too.” 

But Honor either did not or would not hear him. 
She did not even look up from her work. 


286 


The Story of Honor Bright, 


He waited just an instant to make sure of this ; 
and then, without another word, he went out. 

The next morning, when Elspeth went to call him 
to his breakfast, he was nowhere to be found. In 
spite of his promise, he had left the place ; and he 
had taken Black Douglas with him. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


BY THE LIGHT OF THE MOON. 

R UGGLES, after leaving the library, had gone 
straight to the barn, and after one more look at 
the horses had sought his room and turned in. He 
was really almost as anxious about Angus as any- 
body ; but his anxiety did not keep him awake. He 
fell asleep almost as soon as his head touched the 
pillow ; but, as often happens when the mind is 
taxed, no sooner had his body become partially 
rested than he found himself wide awake again, and 
thinking away at the problem of the child’s recovery 
as hard as ever. 

The clock in his room struck presently — a single, 
quick stroke — telling him the hour. The room was 
full of light from the. moon, which must be now 
well up the sky. He tossed about restlessly for 
something like half an- hour; and then, with a sudden 
287 




288 The Story of Honor Bright. 

impulse, he got up, and dressed himself, resolved 
to go down to the pond and take a plunge. Prob- 
ably he would be able to sleep again after that. 

Thorough believer as he was in the truth that in all 
affairs of life men are guided by an unseen and all- 
seeing Power, Ruggles might well have had his 
simple faith strengthened by an event which now 
took place. Arrived at the shore of the pond, he 
walked along to the right until he reached a stretch 
of sandy beach where he had often come before with 
his present object. He went down close to the 
water, and pulling off his coat threw it down beneath 
a tree that was there. As he did so his eye fell upon 
something that looked like a letter lying on the sand. 
He picked it up and saw that it was a postal-card ; 
and the next instant his heart gave a leap, as by the 
full light of the moon he read the direction. It was 
addressed to “ L. Stalker, Wooster, Mass.” He 
connected it instantly with Herron, and he turned it 
over with almost trembling eagerness. There were 
only a few lines on it, straggling and illy written, 
without date or signature. But they told him 
volumes. What he read was this : 

Got in hear wit the Sloop Fridy morn. Do it sundy nite if 
you can or mondy nite annyway. shall look for you Toosdy at 
furthest with the frate. The Sallie Northup at old Birth, 











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By the Light of the Moon. 291 

There was not a particle of doubt in Ruggles’ 
mind as to who had dropped this postal and to what 
it referred. It had been sent either to Herron or his 
companion (the name Stalker assured him of this) 
and the “ frate ” (freight) was Angus Murdoch. 
Indeed, just before this last word another had been 
carefully erased which, it was not difficult to guess, 
had been the word “ boy.” He turned it over again, 
and saw with a sort of glee that the postmark was 
perfectly readable. It was Providence, R. I.” 
The clue that he wanted was in his hands. He 
snatched up his coat again and started off with 
a rapid step, half walk, half run, towards the 
house. 

He hurried up to his room, hastily added a collar 
and tie to his toilet, took a revolver from the table- 
drawer and put it in his pocket, and then ran down- 
stairs again. In another minute he had saddled 
Black Douglas and was leading him out the door. 
He did not take him along the drive, but around by 
the shrubbery, across Donald’s much-loved flower- 
beds, and thus quietly towards the road. He did not 
wish to be overheard. At the gates he halted an 
instant, struck by an after-thought. He had given 
his word not to run away. What was to be done ? 
He wished that he had written a note to explain. 


292 2 ^he Story of Honor Bright. 

He felt in his pocket for a piece of paper, but he had 
nothing save the postal. And he would not go back 
now. The only thing to do was to write back 
or telegraph in the morning. And so, with a single 
quick spring, scarcely touching the stirrup with his 
foot, he was in the saddle and galloping away. 

It was ten minutes of two by the town-clock as lie 
rode by the meeting-house. It would not be day for 
two hours yet. But that did not matter. He knew 
his road perfectly well for fifteen miles or more ; and 
after that people would be stirring and he could 

inquire. He was going to M Junction, twenty- 

four miles away ; and he meant to make it in three 
hours. He had heard, he did not remember just 
how, that a freight train went through every morning 
at five. And it was this that he hoped to catch. 

It seemed scarcely a minute before Random was 
fairly behind, and they were galloping along at a 
splendid pace, he and Douglas together, over the 
hard white road. The stone walls and the fences 
and the houses here and there on either side came 
and went like things that flew. Douglas was like his 
master. He had had a hard day’s work of it yester- 
day and he had not had half the rest he ought ; but 
he could do without 'it. They both of them had 
nerve and endurance enough to last them till another 


By the Light of the Moon. 


293 




nightfall. The rider bent over and whispered his 
wild thoughts into the horse’s ear. There was that 
ahead that was worth their best united efforts to 
secure. What were thieves and rascals and the 
sloop Sallie Northup against an honest man and an 
honest steed, with the blood tingling in all their 
veins, and hearts that beat as one ! And Douglas 
threw out his head with an answering neigh, and his 
pace seemed to lengthen at every spring, as the 
ground flew like light from beneath his feet. 

They came out before very long on the Turnpike 
road. There was a guide-board at the corner : 

Random Centre., four and a half miles. 

‘‘ Four miles and a half already ! Think of that, old 
Black ! Why, at this rate we shall have to .sit down 
and wait for the train ! ” And presently, right there 
before them was a familiar place in the road. Bug- 
gies remembered it well. It was there that he had 
come whistling up and found Honor and Livy and 
Black Douglas halted together in the road. Ah, old 
horse ! You knew what you had stopped there for, 
didn’t you t You were waiting for your master. And 
you’d have waited until Christmas if he had not 
come along. Ruggles laughed out merrily. And 
his voice went echoing off over the fields, and away, 
away into the glorious night. 


294 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


And then he fell to thinking of Honor — Honor 
Bright. And a sudden cloud fell over his spirits. 
He saw her as she had sat there in her chair when 
he left the library — with not a word, not a look for 
him, believing him guilty, as they all did. . He could 
have borne it from the rest of them, every one — every 
one but her. And yet he could not blame her. Why 
should she see the matter but as they did, when even 
this skilled detective was certain of his guilt ? No, 
he did not blame her. It was not even bitterness 
that he felt towards her now. Only a sense of honest 
hurt and sorrow. Her good opinion would have 
been worth so much to him just then ; as her distrust 
had been the hardest of all. Well, he must bear that 
too, — bear it until to-morrow or the day after. He 
was going to find Angus and send him back, and a 
letter with him. He himself was not going back at 
all. He had made up his mind to that, absolutely, 
as he had stood there in the library. And Honor 
Bright — the other Honor Bright — should have the 
name and the money to herself. After all, she was 
worthy of them, with all her faults. Why should she 
not think herself better than he ? She was better, a 
hundred times. 

And so the miles and the minutes flew. W 

was right ahead now ; and presently it was behind. 


By the Light of the Moon, 


295 


They were twelve miles on their way this minute, 
and it seemed scarcely an hour since they had started. 
Ruggles had no watch to tell him how he was getting 
on ; but he did not care for any. He was doing his 
best, and it would have done him no good to know 
the time. They were in a hilly country now, and 
must go more slowly at times. And Douglas must 
have a chance to breathe now and then. Ruggles 
let him walk or gallop, as he would. The horse 
seemed to understand, and he was no shirker of his 
work. He meant to make the very best of himself, 
and almost always he would start up again of his 
own accord. They passed through two other towns ; 
and then day broke and the east began to redden on 
the left. They pulled up at a watering-trough, and 
both refreshed themselves with a draught of cold 
water. Ruggles stopped at a house where a light 
was seen, to inquire about the way. And by and by 
— both horse and rider pretty well tired now — they 
came upon a guide-board again and read (almost by 
daylight now) that they were only half a dozen miles 
from their destination. Ruggles told his horse the 
welcome fact, and they went down a long hill before 
them at a telling pace. There was a rickety bridge 
at the foot, that shook and creaked as they passed 
over. And all at once, before they were well off from 


296 The Story of Honor Bright. 

it, Douglas stopped short with a shock and staggered 
and fell ; and Ruggles flew headlong from his seat. 

Our hero picked himself up quickly and ran back 
to his horse. There was a pain in his left arm and 
shoulder, but he hardly minded it at the moment. 
His only thought was of Douglas, who was lying 
there on his side panting heavily and not able to 
move. Ruggles ran and knelt down beside him. 
The horse looked up at him with great intelligent 
eyes, full of mute anguish. In the bridge close by 
was a jagged rent that told the story. And in 
another moment Ruggles knew fully what had hap- 
pened, and he groaned aloud. The poor beast had 
broken both his fore-legs. 

It was nothing to be ashamed of, surely, that the 
lad, kneeling there in the early morning by his 
crippled horse, should bend down then, and throwing 
his arms about the animal’s neck fall to sobbing like 
a child. He knew that this was the end of the 
faithful steed. Douglas never would walk another 
step, and there was nothing to do but put him out of 
his misery. And it was not simply, or indeed at all, 
that by this unhappy accident the object of his 
journey was endangered. Ruggles had really loved 
this horse almost as one might love his human friend. 
A man and his beast could never have been more to 


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By the Light of the Moon. 299 

each other than these two had been. Nothing could 
have been further from seeming weak or unreasona- 
ble than the sight of this young fellow, every inch a 
man already, bending over his fallen steed, talking in 
broken words to him and dropping hot tears upon 
his neck. Nothing could have been so inexpressibly 
sad and touching as the answering look in the eyes of 
the poor dumb beast that lay there suffering and 
uncomplaining. He had done his work nobly, and 
his very life had he given. 

Ruggles rose up resolutely at length. There was, 
truly, but one thing to be done ; and time was 
precious. He took his handkerchief and spread it 
tenderly over the horse’s head. He could not bear 
the look of those mournful eyes now. Then he 
took his revolver, and putting it quickly to the 
prostrate head — he knew the proper place very well, 
for he had seen this done before — he fired once and 
twice. And then, in another moment, he knew that 
the thing was done. Black Douglas lay there dead, 
as he had fallen. 

He made no attempt to move the body of the 
horse. There was no one near and there was no 
time. And since he could no longer ride, he must 
walk, or rather he must run. He started on at a 
swift, easy trot, but soon his shoulder began to pain 


300 The Story of Honor Bright. 

him sorely and he was obliged to go more slowly. 
Luckily, a village presently appeared, and a doctor’s 
sign caught his eye as he entered it. He rang the 
bell, was at once admitted, learned that his shoulder 
was “ out ” and got it “ put in ” again, all in six or 
seven minutes ; and then he hurried over to a livery 
stable, secured a horse and buggy and drove on 

to M . He got there at quarter past five. And 

his train had gone ! 

There was nothing to be done but wait for a pas- 
senger train that came along some two hours later. 
Meanwhile he went and got his breakfast. After that 
he sat down in the station and fell asleep, by which 
he nearly missed the train, after all. Then an impa- 
tient ride of an hour brought him at last to Providence. 

He went over to the river at once and walked ^long 
the wharves, happening to go down the east side 
first, scanning closely every one-masted craft to be 
seen, and constantly making inquiries. Away down 
by the Fox Point wharf, where the New York boats 
come in, he found a man who told him what he 
sought to know. 

“The Northupt Sloop?’’ repeated he. “Yes, 
sir. She lay off in the stream yender when I knocked 
off work at six o’clock last night. She must a’ got 
under way an’ gone out in the night, or this mornin’ 


By the Light of the Moon. 


301 


early, mebbe. She can’t have got fur es yit. There 
haven’t ben no wind ter speak of sence sunset last 
night.” 

“ Tell me the quickest way I can get to Newport,” 
said Ruggles. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


IN THE WEST PASSAGE. 


UR hero was told that there were three ways by 



which he could get to Newport. There was an 
early boat ; but as it was discovered at that moment 
coming through Point Street Bridge, he could hardly 
take that. And the next boat would not go until 
some hours later. But one could reach Newport by 
train by way of Fall River. He would find out about 
that by going over to the Bristol depot, only a few 

steps away. And then there was the W route. 

At the depot mentioned, Ruggles learned that his 
best way would be the last named. And he was to 
leave by a Shore Line train at forty minutes past 
nine. 

Of course the young man’s idea in going to New- 
port was to get to the mouth of Narragansett Bay be- 
fore the Sal/ie Northup. He felt that if he could do 


In the IVesi Passage. 303 

that he should have her in a trap. As for stopping 
her — once let him get ahead of her and he would do 
it if he had to swim out to her and board her all by 
himself. Ruggles was a young person who, although 
not so dull as never to see any difficulties, was yet 
so determined and self-reliant that he rarely saw dif- 
ficulties that were insurmountable. And, indeed, it 
is just such a quality that has enabled heroes to 
achieve the “ impossible ” a hundred times before 
now. 

He took a horse-car that had been waiting for an 
in-coming train and went back to Market Square. By 
the clock at the horse-car depot he had, still, more 
than half an hour to spare. Around at the Post 
Office he got him a sheet of paper and a stamp and 
wrote a line to Mr. Murdoch, telling him briefly 
where he was and of the clew that he was following 
up. But at the last moment, he put it in his pocket 
instead of into the letter-box. After all, he would 
wait a few hours, until he got to Newport and found 
what would really come of his search. If he sent the 
letter now, he might have the detective down on him 
before night ; and he had already had quite enough 
of the detective. He would manage the matter for 
himself; and as yet there was no real need of 
writing. 


304 


The Story of Honor Bright, 


A little later he was on board the New York ex- 
press and being whirled away southward. At W 

Junction there was a change of cars. A number of 
passengers, most of them of a superior class, got out 
with him and went across the platform, apparently 
bound for the same destination. Then a short run 
around to the left brought them in sight of the 
bright waters of the Bay ; and passing presently 
through a pretty little town, they stopped at the 
wharf where a small boat was lying with steam up all 
ready to start. 

It was a beautiful morning, calm and soft. And 
there is perhaps no more beautiful sail anywhere than 
that across Narragansett Bay at such a time. Ruggles 
went and sat down under the awning aft, meaning to 
enjoy it fully in spite of his anxiety and a sense of 
drowsiness which was now heavy upon him. The 
motion of the boat as they moved swiftly from the 
harbor, out past the Spindle and away toward the 
north end of Conanicut, made a current of air which 
was refreshing. A lady and gentleman came and sat 
down near him. There was a child with them, a boy, 
not unlike Angus in speech and ways. The lady 
by and by took a field-glass from her bag, and with 
it she and her companion scanned the scenery and 
objects all about them. Ruggles listened to their 



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Ifi the ' West Passage. 


307 


conversation, willing to know more of the geography 
of the Bay. The child moved about here and there, 
interested in everybody and everything. He had 
looked at our hero once or twice as though he would 
like immensely to make his acquaintance. There 
was something about the latter that always drew 
children to him. And presently the boy came and 
climbed upon the. seat beside him and made some 
remark about the water. 

All at once the lady, who had been looking steadily 
for some moments at a small vessel some distance 
away, lowered the glasses and called to the child. 

“ Come here, Bertie, and look at this vessel. 
There is a little boy on board, I think. You can see 
him with the glass.” 

Ruggles’ heart gave a leap, and he looked instantly 
himself in the direction of the vessel. She was a 
small sloop, something like a mile distant, and a 
little to the southward of them, stretching over 
toward the western shore. The wind, what there was 
of it, was south and west, and she was apparently 
beating down through the West Passage. Could it 
be the Sallie No?'thiip ? 

Master Bertie had taken rhe glass and was look- 
ing eagerly at the vessel ; but he did not seem able 
to make out the boy. Ruggles, unable to restrain 


3oS The Story of Honor Bright. 

himself longer, started forward and begged the use 
of the^ glasses a single moment. He thought he 
knew the vessel, he said. And the lady very politely 
bade the child give them to him. 

Ruggles took them gratefully, and, tr)dng them an 
instant, and readjusting them to suit his eyes, gazed 
for almost a minute at the sloop in the distance. 
He could not see any boy on her deck either, al- 
though he could plainly distinguish two men and a 
woman. He noticed, incidentally, too, that there 
was a big patch on the sloop’s mainsail. He was 
about to return the glasses unsatisfied, when sud- 
denly, right across the narrow circle of vision, there 
moved another figure, that of a boy, which, though 
it was impossible to be certain, at that distance, 
yet from something in the motions and outline, he 
felt sure must be Angus. 

Scarcely thinking what he did, Ruggles handed 
back the glass to the boy, mumbling some thanks, 
and hurried away forward. He must see the cap- 
tain at once. Here was the lost child almost in 
reach, and he must not be lost sight of again. But 
just abaft the beam below stairs, he stopped short, 
ready to laugh at himself. This was sheer nonsense, 
of course. The captain was not likely, from anything 
he could do or say, to stop his boat and go down 


In the West Passage. 


309 


there after this vessel. Ruggles saw clearly that 
such a thing was out of the question. And he turned 
about and walked slowly aft again. After all, it 
would matter little. He should get to Newport long 
before the sloop could make Point Judith. And he 
knew her now, and was aware of her course. Suc- 
cess, sooner or later, in his undertaking seemed 
quite assured. But at this moment there was noth- 
ing for it but to wait. He went and sat down again, 
though in a different place, and watched the sloop 
closely, until Conanicut Island presently hid her 
from his sight. Then he went inside, and, lying 
down on a settee, with a life-preserver for a pillow, 
went fast asleep. When he awoke again the steamer 
was right in among a hundred yachts riding grace- 
fully at their anchors, and they were almost at the 
wharf. 

Ruggles had thought of going to the proper author- 
ities and laying the whole matter before them. But 
he had finally rejected this plan. To follow it was at 
once to put the matter out of his own hands ; and who 
could say then but that the officers and lawyers be- 
tween them, with their red-tape and self-importance, 
might so delay or blunder as to let the prize slip 
away even now ? No: Ruggles had no great respect 
for the methods of authority. And he did have the 


310 The Story of Honor Bright. 

most decided confidence in himself. He knew now 
just where the sloop, with Angus on board, was ; and 
he believed he could catch her. And as long as he 
kept the matter to himself, he could manage it in his 
own way. 

Over at the wharf next to where the steamer had 
landed lay a small tug, seemingly waiting for a job. 
Ruggles strolled over to where she was. He had 
plenty of time, and he did not mean to make any mis- 
takes. He stood on the cap-log, looking her over 
and noting the men upon her deck. Her name was 
the Bapid.^^ 

“ Is your tug as good as her name ? ” he asked pres- 
ently of one of the hands. ^ 

The man declared emphatically that she was. 

“ Is the captain on board ? ” 

♦ 

“No: that’s him over yonder. He’ll be back 
here pretty quick.” 

Ruggles walked across to where the captain, 
plainly distinguishable, was talking with another man. 
He was a bluff, determined-looking person, yet his 
face showed sense and good nature. Our hero made 
up his mind to address him. 

“ Is your tug engaged this morning ? ” he asked as the 
captain, a moment later, turned away from his com- 
panion. 


ON THE DOCK 













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In the West Passage. 


313 


“That depends,” was the answer. “1 half agreed 
to take a schooner out round the Fort. I’m in- 
clined to think there’ll be breeze enough for her 
afore long, though. What ’d ye want?” 

Ruggles, how as well satisfied as he could expect 
to be as to his man, quickly told what was necessary 
of his story. He wished to head off a certain sloop 
that was this moment coming down the West Passage. 
There was a boy on board who had been stolen and 
must be rescued. He did not want any officers of 
the law along. He thought that if he could once get 
on board the sloop he could, without using force, in- 
duce her people to give the child up. He had some 
influence with one of them. But he w'ould, at the 
same time, like to have force enough to take him, if 
they refused. The boy’s friends would shoulder all 
the responsibility. Ruggles’ manner, as he stated all 
this, was such as to compel confidence. And he 
offered to pay for the tug in advance. The captain 
considered a single moment, and then consented to 
go. There were three men already on his vessel, and 
he could get two more on whom he could depend. 
And in talking it over the old sailor before long be- 
came as interested and aroused about it as Ruggles 
himself, and vowed he would get back the boy if he 
lost his license. 


314 The Story of Honor Bright. 

It was after one o’clock when they got started. 
Ruggles was beginning to worry lest the sloop should 
get out of the Bay after all ; but Capt. Brease re-as- 
sured him. 

“They haint had a shawlful of wind over there 
for the last hour,” he declared. “ We shall have to 
run up after ’em half a dozen miles at least. Be- 
sides, ef they did get out, they couldn’t get away. 
I’d chase ’em from here to Cuby afore I’d give ’em 
up — the bloody pirates ! ” 

And sure enough, when they got out past Beaver- 
tail, ihere was no such craft as Ruggles described 
anywhere in sight. 

The breeze was freshening every moment, however, 
and they steamed rapidly away northward, so that it 
could not be long before the sloop would heave in 
sight, if she were really there. Ruggles was in the 
wheel-house with a spy-glass, noting every object; 
and his heart failed him at last, as sail after sail, 
coming nearer, proved to be not the one desired. 
Could it be that the Sallie had turned back and that 
Herron would somehow evade him after all.? It was 
not likely; still his heart sank at the thought. But 
the very next moment he sighted a sail with a big 
patch on it, and he knew that it was the sloop. 

The course of the Bapid was changed so as by and 


In the West Passage. 315 

by to bring her, without apparent intention, pretty 
close to the sloop. The latter was now on her star- 
board tack and well over under the land. They 
would meet her a little later, when she had come 
about. As they drew nearer still, Ruggles, with his 
glass, caught sight of the boy again ; and almost im- 
mediately after that, as it became evident that the 
two vessels would pass very near each other, he saw 
one of the men (there were three now) go aft and lead 
the child below. From that moment he knew that 
he was on the right track. 

As they approached nearer still, Ruggles carefully 
kept himself out of sight. There were sharp eyes on 
board the sloop, doubtless, as well as in the RapiPs 
wheel-house ; and it was best to get as near as pos- 
sible without exciting distrust. Five minutes later 
they were so close together that the sloop’s name, in 
yellow letters on the bow, could be made out. It 
was the Sallie Northup. 

And at length the time came when they were al- 
most upon her, the sloop brought now directly across 
the Rapid' s and the latter only a few fathoms 

away. A man jumped up on the Sallie' s rail, holding 
on by the shroud. He was short and thick-set; and 
Ruggles perceived, with a sudden quickening of the 
pulse, that it was the “ Boy.” 


3i6 The Story of Honor Bright. 

“ What are you up to ? ” he called out fiercely. 
“ Do you want to run us down ? ” 

“We’re all right,” Captain Brease shouted back. 
“ What sloop is that ? ” The question was put more 
by way of opening the conversation than for any in- 
formation. 

“The Sallie Northup — out of Bristol last night. 
Bound for Greenport with a cargo of onions.” 

“Humph!” ejaculated Captain Brease under his 
breath. “ Cargo of onions ! Cargo of young ones, 
more likely.’’ Then aloud, “Luff her up, will you. 
I want to talk with you. ” 

The answer (whose exact wording it is not thought 
best to give) was to the effect that the other would do 
no such thing. He had something else to do besides 
talk. 

The Rapid, at the last moment, had taken a sheer 
and swept around the Saltiers stern into a course 
parallel with that of the sloop, and was now running 
along with slackened speed beside her — so near in- 
deed that one might easily have leaped from one 
vessel to the other. 

“Take a rope for us, will you,” shouted Brease 
from his pilot-house, not heeding the excited manner 
of those on board the sloop. “Barton, throw ’em a 
rope.” 






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In the West Passa^, 


319 

But the other declared that he would take no rope 
from them at all. Captain Brease presently got quite 
red in the face with anger, and answered back some- 
thing as decidedly uncomplimentary, at the same time 
proposing to Ruggles to board the sloop without 
further ado and make a search. “ There isn’t a man 
there we need be afraid of,” argued he. “ I can go 
aboard all by myself and knock their three heads 
together.” 

But Ruggles preferred a different course. He 
stepped out into view now and spoke to the stranger. 

“ You probably know me,” he said. “ I saw you a 
moment the other day. I want to see Herron. I 
know he is on board there. He went below a few 
minutes ago.” 

• But the other declared in the strongest possible 
terms that he had never seen Ruggles before and 
never wanted to see him again. And as for there be- 
ing another man below, how many hands did they 
suppose he carried to work one jib and a main- 
sail ? 

“ Do ye think we can’t count, ye rascal ? ” bawled 
out Captain Brease in a rage. “There were three 
men and a boy on your deck awhile ago.” 

“ There' is no use beating about the bush in this 
way,” interposed our hero calmly. “We know per- 


320 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


fectly well that you’ve got the boy. It will be better 
for you if you are reasonable.” 

At that moment the sloop’s cabin-hatch was opened 
and Herron himself appeared in sight. He had 
heard plainly all that had passed, and had concluded 
it would be best to show himself. 

“ Ef it ain’t Bright again ! ” were his first words, 
uttered in great apparerit wonder. He stepped out 
upon deck, pulling the slide to behind him. “We do 
seem ter meet in the queerest ways ! How come ye 
here. I’d like ter know.” 

Herron’s manner was so innocent that Ruggles 
could not help laughing. 

“It’s of no sort of use, Herron,” said he good- 
naturedly — “all this lying and pretension. You’ve 
got Angus Murdoch aboard here, and I want him. 
You don’t deserve it ; but for the sake of old times, if 
you’ll give him up peaceably, you shall go free your- 
selves. If you don’t — why, we shall come aboard 
and take him. Even if we couldn’t do that, we could 
steam back to Newport and have a police-boat or a 
government vessel after you in no time. You see 
how it is.” 

Herron did see how it was, and he was not so 
foolish as to refuse these terms. Indeed, he did not 
even hesitate. 


I 


M the West Passage. 


321 


“Give him up?” answered he, readily, “Bless 
you, we’ll give him up and welcome. He’s ben a 
heap o’ trouble ! I hope, though, ye don’t think we’re 
ter blame at all for hevin’ the boy along. He at- 
tached hisself ter me and insisted on my helpin’ 
him ter run away ter sea. Ef you’ll take him olf 
our ban’s we’ll be only too much obleeged ter ye.” 

He went and pushed back the slide again and called 
to the woman who was below to “bring up the 
boy.” In another moment Angus was on deck and 
Ruggles had leaped on board the Sallie and had 
him by the hand. The boy had no appearance of 
having been a sufferer either mentally or physically. 

“ I’m glad to see you, Ruggles,” said he with the 
dignity of a travelled man of the world. “ I think 
on the whole I had rather go back. They have hor- 
rid things to eat here, and that woman is dreadfully 
slack.” 

It later became known that Herron had actually 
persuaded Angus (when the child came to himself 
in the carriage) that he wanted to run away to sea ; 
and Angus had adopted the idea with characteristic 
relish. 

The boy, with what effects belonged to him, was at 
once transferred to the Rapid^ and the two vessels 
parted again. Ruggles, at the last moment, had 


322 


The Story of Honor Bright, 


taken pains to say one more word in the ear of 
Herron. He thought it as well to make sure of the 
latter’s not turning up at Random again. He told 
him distinctly therefore that if ever he saw him again 

anywhere, he would 
have him arrested 
for the present of- 
fense. 

At Captain 
Brease’s own sug- 
gestion, instead of 
turning back to 
Newport, the Rap- 
id was run over to 
the western shore, 
and Ruggles and 
Angus landed at 
a point from which 
they were able to 
get conveyance to 
Kingston in time to catch an afternoon train north. 
They went directly through to Boston, getting there 
about six. Ruggles took his charge over to the other 
depot and put him in care of the conductor of the 
late train out, asking him to look out for him and see 
he got out at Random Station. Probably there 



In the West Passage. 


323 


would be some one to meet him. A telegram had 
been sent. Then he gave Angus a • letter to Mr. 
Murdoch — which he had written on the train — and 
bade him good-by. 

“I am not going out to-night,” he explained. “ Be 
sure and not lose the letter. There’s some money in 
it.” 

Then he shook Angus by the hand and ran to get 
off the train, which was already in motion. 




CHAPTER XX. 


A REVELATION. 

The letter which Ruggles had written to Mr. Mun 
doch was as follows : — 

“Dear Sir : I send you this by Angus, who will tell you all 
about my finding him, and the true story of the kidnapping I 
trust that Mr. Clewer (and the rest) will believe now that I had 
nothing to do with it. You will understand now, too, how it 
was that I broke my promise about not leaving the place. I 
had to come away in the middle of the night, and I thought it 
best not to disturb anybody. 

“ What I feel worse now about than anything else is Black 
Douglas ! Angus will tell you about it. He broke both fore- 
legs going over a rotten bridge, and I had to shoot him. I left 

word about him at a livery stable at F , if you choose to do 

anything about his body. He deserves a monument. 

“ I have concluded that after what has passed I had best not 
come back to Hollownook. Now that the horse is dead I shall 

324 





A Revelatiojt. 


325 


hardly be indispensable. I will write again in a few days and 
give directions where to send my things. Respectfully yours, 

“ Thomas Ruggles. 

“ P. S. I enclose what was left of the money you gave me 
Tuesday morning. I gave twenty-five dollars to the captain of 
the tug.” 

It was not until the next morning at breakfast that 
Mr. Murdoch showed this letter to the family. Angus 
and his wonderful story had occupied all attention 
the night before; and Ruggles, although frequently 
mentioned, was nobody’s chief thought. His great 
service was appreciated, and all felt deep regret at the 
wrong that had been done him. And Honor, for one, 
resolved to make all possible amends when she saw 
him again. Until the letter was read, nobody, save 
Mr. Murdoch, had a thought but that he would return 
the next day. 

“I’ve a letter from Ruggles,” the gentleman had 
said, when they were about through breakfast. “ He 
sent it out by Angus last night. He says he is not 
coming back.” 

“ Not coming back ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Murdoch. 
And the others echoed her surprise. “ What do you 
mean?” 

“ Here is the letter. I’ll read it.” And he did. 

They all listened with attention. They had already 


326 The Story of Honor Bright. 

known about Black Douglas, and the allusion to his 
death caused no remark. It was what was said in 
the last few lines that made the most impression. 
Ruggles was evidently deeply hurt; and nobody 
could wonder at it. 

' “ He must come back,” said Honor decidedly. “ I 

will write to him myself and beg his pardon. Where 
is he ? ” 

“He does not say,” answered Mr. Murdoch, glanc- 
ing at the letter again. “ But when he sends for his 
things, I shall write to him myself. I always thought 
well of him ; but this affair has shown him up for a 
really noble fellow. Of course we must have him 
back.” 

“And yet,” remarked Mrs. Murdoch thoughtfully, 
“we can hardly be blamed for suspecting him. 
Why, just think of what there was against him — his 
connection with the tramp and his refusing to ex- 
plain about having been in Angus’ room that night. 
I declare, I don’t understand it now.” 

“By the way,” said Mr. Murdoch, “don’t let me 
forget to telegraph to Clewer. He won’t need now 
to work up that clue he thought he discovered yester- 
day.” 

“ What could have been his reasons for refusing to 
explain about the tramp and the button ? ” said Den- 


A Revelation. 


327 


sie, going on with Mrs. Murdoch’s thought. “He 
said it entirely concerned himself. It must have been 
a secret of importance, else he would have told it at 
such a time.” There was a world of feminine curi- 
osity in Densie’s tone. 

“What is it about the button t ” interposed Angus. 
He had been digging down into the bottom of his 
coffee cup for the sugar ; but his ears were, as usual, 
wide open. 

“ Angus,” asked Honor suddenly, “was Ruggles 
in your room any time that night you were carried 
off.?” 

Angus seemed at that moment to have discovered 
a fresh deposit of sugar in his cup, for he went down 
into it deeper than before. 

“ Ah ! ” murmured he, smacking his lips, “ isn’t 
that good ! They sweetened their coffee with molas- 
ses on board the Sallie Northup. Ugh ! ” 

The question was repeated, however; and Angus, 
unable to ignore it a second time, looked up rather 
impudently at his aunt, and answered slowly, without 
taking his spoon from his mouth, 

“ What do you want to know for .? ” 

“ Angus ! ” spoke up his father sternly, “ answer 
as you ought.” 

“ Well,” said Angus, not greatly abashed, “ yes, he 


328 The Story of Homr Bright. 

was.'' He thought to himself that to say so much 
was no violation of his word. 

“ At what time ? ” asked Honor. 

“ ’Bout half-past ten, I guess.” 

“What was he doing there? ” 

“ That I sha'n't tell,” returned Angus decidedly. 
And then, catching his father’s eye, “Well, I can't! 
I gave my word I wouldn’t.” 

This was conceded to settle the matter so far as 
taking Angus’ testimony was concerned. And it also 
showed that Ruggles’ having been in the boy’s room 
— since it' turned out to have been the evening 
before, after all — had not necessarily anything to do 
with the kidnaping. But the curiosity of everybody, 
particularly Densie’s, was now all the more excited. 

“ Why,” exclaimed the latter, “ that was before the 
party broke up. Indeed, it must have been about 
the time we dropped our sheets and pillow-cases.” 
Then all at once she clapped her hands together with 
an expression of great glee. “ Oh, I know now ! ” she 
cried. “ And that was the reason we could find 
nothing of him after that! Honor, don’t you re- 
member the Unknown ? It was Ruggles, of 
course. Why did we not guess it before? And 
Angus smuggled him off into his room. Is not that 
it, Angus ? ” 


A Revelation. 


329 


“ Mebbe it is, and mebbe it isn’t,” answered Angus. 
But he was not given to the deeper methods of 
dissimulation, and his countenance gave assurance 
that Densie was right. The mystery of the button at 
least was now fully solved. Ruggles had probably 
dropped it in pulling off his disguise. And he had 
refused to explain it because he had not dared tell of 
his having taken his place unbidden among the 
guests. It seemed strange enough still that he had 
not explained it, since it was the strongest point that 
the detective had made against him. 

Honor presently asked to be excused, and getting 
up from the table rather abruptly, went out through 
the hall and music-room to the library. Densie came 
upon her there a few minutes later, sitting and gazing 
at her palm-leaf fan with a more thoroughly puzzled 
expression than ever. 

“ Densie,” said she, “ I wish you would ask Mr. 
Murdoch to let you take Ruggles’ letter a moment. 
We’ll soon see if he was the Unknown.” 

So Densie went and got the letter ; and its hand- 
writing was eagerly compared with that of the verse 
upon the fan. A single glance at them, side by side, 
showed them to be the same. 

“ For the life of me, though,” mused Honor, “ T 
can’t imagine what he meant by saying that his own 


330 The Story of Honor Bright. 

name was to be found somewhere in the four lines. 
He did say so distinctly ; and it seems all -the more 
likely to have been truth, now we know it was 
Ruggles.” 

She took up the fan again and read the lines once 
more, aloud ; 

“ ‘ Alas, poor me ! what can I do, . 

When asked by Honor Bright, 

To write my name upon her fan, 

But take my pen and write ? ’ 

“ It will take sharper eyes than mine to find 
Thomas Rtcggles written there anywhere,” said she. 
“ If it is there at all, it must be worked in somehow 
like a puzzle. I declare, it’s as aggravating as one of 
those pictures that you’re to look for all sorts of an- 
imals and things in — and you can’t always find 
them when you know they are there.” 

Densie also took the fan once more and looked 
carefully at the lines. Had Ruggles been standing 
by at that moment, he would have trembled for his 
precious secret. Densie Drew had sharp eyes ; and 
she already knew of the letters “ H. B.” upon his 
arm, although the thought of them did not enter her 
head at this moment. It seems hardly possible that 
she could have looked at these verses now, knowing 


A Revelation. 


33 ^ 


as much as she did, and not see the truth ! Yet she 
did not see it. Her talents were not in any sense 
literary ; and this might be said to be a literary puz- 
zle. Besides, she was really very skeptical as to any 
name being there at all. She never had such faith 
in w'hat people said as Honor did. She threw the 
fan down on the table the next moment. 

“ It isn’t there at all ! ” said she impatiently. 
“ Of course it isn’t there ! He wasn’t going to tell 
who he was. Why, he wouldn’t tell about it even to 
prove he didn’t help steal Angus. I must say he 
was remarkably entertaining that night. I never 
should have known but he was just like other people, 
instead of being a coachman.” 

Then all at once the suspicion she had formerly 
cherished that Ruggles was concealing his real name, 
flashed across her. No matter how important a 
thing might be, it was either entirely m or out of 
Densie’s mind at any given time. That was a pecu- 
liarity of hers. 

“ His name couldn’t be JVrig/it, could it ? ” sug- 
gested she. 

“ I asked him that, myself,” said Honor, “ and 
he did not deny it.” 

“ At any rate,” said Densie, “ I hope you will get 
him back again. There is some mystery about him. 


332 The Story of Honor Bright. 

I am certain. And I mean to investigate it. You 
must get him back before I go.” 

“ You won’t go for a long while yet,” said Honor. 
“ You are to stay until after my birthday, you know.” 
“And that is — I declare I’ve forgotten ! ” 

“ That is the third of September. I shall then at- 
tain my ‘majority.’ Eighteen years old already! 
Just think of it ! ” 

“ Yes, just think of it ! ” observed Densie. “ And 
then you will really come into all that money ? ” 

“ Yes,” was the reply. “ That won’t make any 
particular difference, though. I have just the same 
as had it for a long while.” 

“ Just the same, only then it will be yours sure. 
Even if the other Honor Bright should come back 
after that, he could not claim it, could he ? ” 

“ No, I suppose not. But that would make no 
difference. If he ever should come back I certainly 
should not think of keeping it just because it was 
mine legally. Mr. Bright wanted the money to go 
to him, of course, if he were alive.” 

“ You foolish girl I ” declaied Densie. “ I would 
keep it. But then, of course, he never will come 
back. It was dreadful to go off so and be lost at 
sea. And how romantic it all was — his running 
away, and being drowned, and the money and the 


A Revelation. 


333 



name coming to you ! I didn’t suppose such things 
ever happened except in stories. And to think that 
I should have known you both, one at one time and 
one at another. I remember him perfectly well — 
just how he looked. 

I should know him 
this minute if he came 
into the room. I al-. 
ways remember peo- 
ple, no matter how 
much they change. By 
the way, I haven't ever 
shown you what he 
wrote in my album. 

And I brought it on 
purpose for you to see. 

It is real romantic, as 
things turned out. But 
if he hadn’t been 
drowned after all, it 
would have been mere 
nonsense. I’ll go and ^ remembrance. 

get it this minute.” 

And not one particle out of breath with all this 
fast talking Densie ran off up-stairs to get the album, 
Honor sitting still meanwhile, thinking over all 


334 The Story of Honor Bright. 

these strange facts connected with her name and for- 
tune. 

It seemed to take Densie some little time to find 
the album. Her trunk was always in a complete 
state of chaos ; and when she wanted anything from 
it she generally would shut her eyes and plunge in 
her hand, as one* does into a grab-box, and take out 
one object at a time until she got the right one. She 
came down with the book at last, however — a thin, 
oblong autograph album of no particular elegance, a 
relic of her younger days. She handed it to Honor, 
already open at the place she wished her to see. 

Honor took the book somewhat absently. The 
lines were a quotation from Burns : 

“ One friendly sigh for him, he asks no more, 

Who distant burns in flaming, torrid chmes, 

Or haply lies beneath Atlantic’s roar.” . 

Beneath this was written the word “ Trellisdalef with 
the date. And then, in a large, flourishing and pe- 
culiar school-boy hand, the name : “ Honor Bright.” 
Of course, it was the seemingly prophetic allusion in 
the last line, and her own connection with the young 
writer, that gave this its special interest to Honor. 

The girl read the lines through, scarcely thoughtful 
of their sense. But when her eyes fell upon the 



HONOR IS MORE PUZZLED THAN EVER, 


335 







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A Revelation, 


337 


signature, Densie, who was watching her, saw them 
suddenly dilate, and she sat staring at the page as 
though it were somebody’s death warrant. 

“ Mercy ! Honor, what is the matter 1 ” cried she. 

“ One would think you saw his ghost in the hand- 
writing. Why, you are actually turning white. You’re 
not going to faint, are you ? ” 

Honor did not say a single word in reply. She 
got up instead, and putting the album down, still 
open, on the table, walked steadily across the room to 
the book-shelves by the window. From one of these 
she took a large book — it was a Latin lexicon — and 
holding it upside down, shook out a piece of paper from 
among the leaves. This she picked up, and returning 
to the table, took up the album again and held it side 
by side with the paper. 

“I knew it ! ” she said, in a low, awed voice. 
“ They are exactly the same. How strange that I 
never guessed it long ago ! Densie, Honor Bright 
has come to life again. He has come back. Ruggles 
is Honor Bright ! Oh, I am so glad ! I am just as 
glad as I can be ! ” 

Densie listened to these words in perfect astonish- 
ment. And she gazed with wonder at the name upon 
the paper, seeing at once that it must have been 
written by the same person who had signed the 


338 


The Story of Ho7ior Bright 


verses in her album, but not understanding, of course, 
what Ruggles had to do with the matter. 

In a few excited words, however. Honor told her 
the story of the fly-leaf — how she and Livy had 
found a book on Ruggles’ table with her name 
upon the leaf, and how foolishly she had inter- 
preted the fact. Ah, how easy it was to see now 
that this book was one that had been his long be- 
fore, and that he had only written in it his own name ! 

Densie, quick enough to understand when the 
wonderful fact was thus set before her, was com- 
pletely overcome by it. 

“ Then he wasn’t lost at sea, after all ? ” she 
slowly said, in a tone that actually had a little bit 
of disappointment in it. 

“No,” replied Honor. 

“ And he has been out in Colorado or somewhere 
all this while, and came back here by and by and 
passed himself off for a coachman ? ” 

“Yes.” ^ 

“ How stupid ! ” 

“ Stupid .? ” 

“ How stupid of us not to have guessed it ! Why, 
look at that fan ! There is the name, ‘ Honor 
Bright^' as plain as can be ! And he told me, that 
night, that he belonged to the Bright family. I don’t 


A Revelation. 


339 


think I belong to the Bright family. Why, I knew 
long ago that those were his initials — ‘ H. B.’ — and 
I hadn’t sense enough to apply them ! And only 
three years ago he went home with me from a surprise 
party, too ! I am provoked with myself for not 
guessing.” 

“ It is very easy to put all these things together 
now that we have the key to it all,” said Honor, 
smiling. “ I can understand a hundred things in 
Ruggles’ manner, and that he has said, that I quite 
misunderstood at the time. What could have been 
his object, though, in coming here in this way and 
taking the place of a coachman ? ” 

“ He did it for the fun of the thing, of course.” 
Densie could very easily find a motive for it. 

“ But why did he never make himself known — 
later. There have been times when one would have 
thought he would have done so.” Honor was think- 
ing at this moment of a certain morning just before 
the Fourth, when she had so haughtily turned upon 
her coachman and told him what was his “ place.” 
And then she recalled the events of the last few 
days. “ Why, if he had told us who he was, that 
night in the library when the detective accused him, 
it would have settled the whole matter! And he 
never said a word.” 


340 The Story of Honor Bright. 

“ He was so obstinate that he wouldnUf declared 
Densie. 

But that did not quite answer the question for 
Honor. And she had something to ponder upon 
later. But there was no time to say or think more of 
the matter now, for Livingston (who had been away 
from home for several days) was at this moment 
heard in the hall — wanting to know what was all 
this about Angus having been kidnapped; and was 
Ruggles really in jail ; and when was the next archery 
meeting to be ? 


CHAPTER XXI. 


A CHANGE OF SCENE. 

I N a few days there came a note from Ruggles ask- 
ing that his things be sent by express to a certain 
address in Boston. These “ things ” were not many, 
his clothes, a number of books that he had accumu- 
lated, some drawings and papers, and the old leathern 
bag which had come with him. But it was found 
necessary to put them in a box ; and Honor herself, 
assisted by Angus, attended to the packing. Mr. 
Murdoch wrote a letter to go with them, in the kind- 
est and strongest terms urging Ruggles to come back 
to Hollownook. He said nothing of the discovery 
they seemed to have made as to the lad’s real name. 
This at Honor’s suggestion. She felt sure that if he 
were aware how much they now knew, Ruggles would 

not come back. Indeed, it had been thought best to 
341 


342 


The Story of Honor Bright, 


say nothing of the matter to anybody outside the 
house for the present. And even Angus was not 
taken* into confidence. 

Ruggles’ answer when it came was very brief, and 
simply repeated the words he had used before. After 
what had passed he did not think it best that he 
should return. He was very grateful to Mr. Murdoch, 
and to them all, for their kindness ; but he had 
already found another job, and it was not likely they 
would ever hear of him again. There was no address 
or date added, and nothing to say whither he was 
going or where he might be found. Evidently he 
had meant it to 'end the matter. 

Honor took the note, and sitting down alone with 
it, she tried to read between the lines. And thinking 
over all that had passed in the last two months, 
recalling many of Ruggles’ acts and words — what he 
had said to her one day upon Mizpah, his bearing 
the morning she had spoken so unfeelingly in her 
attempt to teach him his “place,” some enthusiastic 
words he had let fall the night of the masquerade as 
they sat together upon the piazza, and his strange 
behavior throughout this affair of the kidnapping — 
gradually and imperfectly at first, but by and by dis- 
tinctly and decidedly enough, there came to her an 
understanding of what it all meant. It was clear 


A Change of Scene. 


343 


enough at last, as she put the solution of the problem 
into words half-whispered to herself. Ruggles — 
Honor Bright — did not mean to claim either his 
name or his inheritance at all. He meant to leave 
them still with her, thinking she would never know. 
He had meant so all along. 

That explained it all. Honor’s cheek burned as 
the truth fairly forced itself upon her at last. She 
got up and walked back and forth, mortified and in- 
dignant. The idea that she. Honor Bright, should 
consent to keep and use that which belonged of 
right to another ! That was all that the fact was to 
her for a moment. And the thought was so repugnant 
to her pride that she was fairly angry with this young 
fellow that he should have imagined such a thing. 
But it should not be ! She would show him ! She 
would starve first ! And even when, presently sitting 
down again in more reasonable mood, and remember- 
ing that this act of renunciation on the part of her 
young kinsman, since he had never meant her to 
know it, was far from being an insult to her, and 
must have sprung from the noblest motives, and was 
worthy of all respect and admiration rather than 
anger, still the sense of shame at the thought of it 
did not cease, and she still repeated to herself that it 
should never be. The true heir, the nephew whom 


344 


The Story of Ho7ior Bright, 


old Mr. Bright had always wished to succeed him, 
was alive after all ; and the will had provided for his 
return. The matter was perfectly simple. Honor 
Bright — the real Honor Bright, Ruggles — must 
take what was his. She certainly had no longer any 
right or title to it. She would not keep it under any 
circumstances. She found herself again growing 
very angry at the thought. 

And just at this time, oddly enough, there came a 
letter from Mr. Lambert, bearing upon this same 
matter. It was written at Rock Island, Illinois, 
where he had stopped a few days on his way East 
after his summer’s trip. He had something very 
strange to tell them, he said. By the merest acci- 
dent, he had discovered, while at San Francisco, that 
a lad named Honor Bright had formerly been known 
there ; and in following up this information, he had 
come upon facts that led him to the almost certain 
belief that Mr. Bright’s nephew had never been lost 
at sea as was supposed, but had come to California, 
had later made his way into Colorado, and after liv- 
ing there and in New Mexico for a time, had, this 
same spring or summer, started back East. That 
was all that Mr. Lambert had been able to learn. 
Perhaps they had already seen or heard something of 
the young man. At any rate, he should be home in 


A Change of Scene. 


345 


less than a fortnight now, and would see Mr. Mur- 
doch at once. 

Thus it came about that although Honor was en- 
tirely settled in mind as to the matter, and had quite 
ceased to look upon herself as longer even a possible 
heir to the Bright estate, yet nothing was actually done 
in any way up to the middle of August. It seemed 
now altogether necessary to wait until Mr. Lambert 
could be consulted. Meanwhile no tidings of any 
sort came to them of Ruggles. It seemed to Honor 
sometimes as though his having come to Hollownook 
was only a dream, and that really there had never 
been any such person, so completely had he dropped 
out of the life there. 

When word came that Mr. Lambert was arrived, 
Mr. Murdoch and Honor went to town to see him, 
and all the facts of the case were put together and 
considered. Mr. Lambert had been not only Mr. 
Bright’s lawyer, but his trusted friend, and his interest 
in the matter was not merely professional. He knew 
that the old gentleman would have much preferred 
that his property should go to his nephew if the boy 
were really alive ; and the lawyer wished to do every- 
thing in his power to carry out the wishes of the de- 
ceased. Yet he was very fond of Honor too ; and it 


346 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


relieved him greatly to learn now how decidedly she 
agreed with him in all this. 

“The bother of it is/’ he said by and by, “the 
bother of it is that the time is so short. It is 
evident, from what you have told me, that the foolish 
fellow doesn’t mean to turn up, himself. And if we 
don’t find him before the third of September it will be 
too late.” 

Bu^ Honor did not see how the third of September 
had anything to do with it. The money was certainly 
his, not hers ; and she should not take it under any 
circumstances. 

“ But it will be yours, legally, if he doesn’t turn up 
before then,” said Mr. Lambert, “and you can’t 
help yourself.” 

“ Do you mean to say that the law can make me 
take the money if I don’t want to?” demanded 
Honor with magnificent indignation. 

“ There is no question of your taking it at all,” an- 
swered the lawyer. “ You have been enjoying the 
income of it all this while, and are practically in pos- 
session of it. It becomes yours finally and beyond 
peradventure on your next birthday. The boy’s 
turning up again is a mere contingency. It must 
actually happen in order to affect the matter.” 

“ But he has ‘ turned up,’ ” protested Honor. 


A Change of Scene. 


347 


Mr. Lambert shook his head. 

• “ I’m afraid it would be hard work to show that,” 
said he, “ unless we can find him. However certain 
we may be, there is really no proof that this coach- 
man of yours was Honor Bright, and nothing that I 
have discovered out West will help us any. He must 
actually appear and claim the estate — at least, there 
must be some more tangible proof of his existence 
than anything we now have. No,” — the old gentle- 
man had paused thoughtfully, shaking his head 
slowly all the while, — “ no ; there’s only one thing 
to do. We must find him. If we don’t, the money 
will certainly go to you. There will be no end of 
complications, at any rate.” 

“ I won’t take it ! ” declared Honor, stamping her 
foot, and quite exasperated at her helplessness in the 
matter. “ I will never touch a single cent of it as 
long as I live ! ” 

The lawyer laughed. 

“ Oh, well, as for that, I have no doubt we shall 
find him,” said he, “ unless he has shipped himself 
off to sea again. We must find him ! I will set the 
detectives at work at once. Nobody ever gets far 
nowadays, in this time of telegraphs and telephones. 
You will hear from me, in a day or two, that we are 
on his track.” 


348 


The Story of Ho7ior Bright. 


And so the interview ended. 

But they did not hear from Mr. Lambert in a day 
or two. The best part of another week passed. 
Then Mrs. Murdoch, who had not been very well of 
late, took a notion that she needed sea-air, and de- 
clared that she was going down to N for a week 

or two, and that Honor and Densie must go with her. 
This plan, thus suddenly conceived, was put into ex- 
ecution the next day but one ; and the party, with 
Livy added to it, took an early train to town of a 
Wednesday morning. At the Old Colony ddpot they 
came suddenly upon Mr. Lambert. He told Honor 
that Mr. Clewer, to whom the case had been con- 
fided, had just gotten hold of a clue. He had found 
a place where Ruggles had sold his revolver the 
same night that Angus had returned; and through 
this it had been ascertained that he had shipped on 
board a coal schooner that ran to Rondout, N. Y. 
He had made only one trip, however, and then, the 
schooner putting into Stonington over night, he had 
asked for his discharge and disappeared again. The 
detective was confident, however. Of finding him very 
soon. 

N is a certain one of the almost innumerable 

summer resorts that dot the shores of southern New 
England. It is perhaps neither very important nor 


















A Change of Scene. 


351 


very well known ; yet it is of sufficient consequence 
to have had a magazine article written about it, and a 
certain distinguished artist has a queer little studio 
there of his own contrivance and is to be found in it 
every season. Its advantages are negative rather 
than positive. It has no large hotels, no showy 
cottages, no long beach with boisterous surf, no 
steamboats and trains coming and going, no crowds, 
no noise, no great amount of gayety. It is a quiet, 
out-of-the-way place, consisting simply of one ordinary 
broad piazzaed hotel, with clusters of comfortable 
cottages gathered here and there about it, a broad 
piece of sheltered ocean before, and stretches of 
attractive country landscape behind. 

Yet, quiet and not pretentious as N is, there 

are hosts of pleasant people who love it and make 
their way back to it year by year. It is a place 
where one may rest; and after all, that is the best 
use to which one’s vacations can be put. Mrs. Mur- 
doch had chosen to come to N because rest 

was what she needed, and she had heard the place 
highly spoken of. Besides, it was very easy for 
Mr. Murdoch to come down Saturday noon and_stay 
over Sunday. 

As for the rest of the party, the quiet life suited 
Honor completely ; and even Densie, though she 


352 The Story of Honor Bright. 

would decidedly have preferred Newport or Mt. Desert, 
yet, with the willing assistance of some twenty other 
young people whom she found there, managed to 
exist with tolerable content. Livy was of that easy, 
healthy disposition that enjoys almost anything that 
does not involve labor or positive discomfort ; and 
Angus, of course, was not long in finding friends and 
adventures to his mind. It is not purposed, however, 
to dwell here upon anything that these friends of 

ours said and did at N , save as to the events of 

a certain twenty-four hours which have especially to 
do with — and which, indeed, close — this story. 

There came an afternoon that was excessively hot 
and still and sultry. Not a particle of air seemed 
stirring on land or sea. Densie was sitting on the 
hotel piazza, and Livy was lying in a hammock that 
hung close by. Nobody else seemed to be anywhere 
in sight. 

“ Oh dear ! ” groaned the young lady ; “ how 
dreadfully still and warm it is ! It seems as though 
the whole world had died for want of breath. I 
wish I had gone with them to Nantucket.” 

“ It strikes me,” drawled Livy in a half-awake sort 
of manner, “ that one can’t do better on a day like 
this than sit here in a Wakefield chair and fan one’s 
self.” 


A Change of Scene. 


353 


“ Fan one’s self, indeed!” repeated Densie impa- 
tiently. “ I don’t want to have to make a breeze. I 
want one ready-made. I do believe there is the 
faintest sign of a ripple on the water away out 
yonder. I would like to go out there and sit in it. 
The Alsop boys are not using their boat, are 
they ? ” 

“Why, no ; they went to Nantucket, you know.” 

“ Of course. Well, then, we can have it. I want 
to go rowing. Come ! ” And Densie rose from her 
seat. 

“ And you want me to do the rowing for you ? ” 
murmured Livy without opening _his eyes. “ I de- 
clare I That’s cool.” 

“ I hope you will find it so,” said Densie dryly. 
“ But come. We won’t go far and there won’t be 
much rowing to do. I’ll go up and tell Honor. 
Come I You’ve got to go. If you don’t — ” 

“ Oh, I’ll go,” said Livy. 

Densie presently came down again with Honor, 
and the three started down toward the headland 
where the boat was kept. Angus had been invited to 
join the party ; but he and the Macullar boy had 
a tub full of tadpoles down at the barn, which were 
confidently expected to turn into frogs before night, 
and could not be left. 


354 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


The boat was an ordinary rowTboat, one that the 
Alsop boys had hired over at New Bedford. The 
oars lay in the bottom, and also a mast with a piece 
of sail wound around it. Livy would have thrown 
out the latter, but Honor suggested that they might 
want it if they found their breeze. Honor sat 
in the bow, and Densie took her place at the rudder- 
lines, while Livy^ took the oars and pulled lazily off 
from shore. The water was smooth as glass, but 
there certainly was a breeze out yonder, a half-mile 
or so. They could see it upon the water. And 
besides, still further away, a schooner could be seen, 
with sails all set and filled. There were some clouds, 
a trifle dark and threatening, piled up against the 
horizon off to the south ; but nobody seemed to 
notice them. 

They talked all the while as they moved along — 
at least Densie and Livingston did — of this and 
that, as idle people do, half-drifting upon a summer 
sea. Honor sat in silence under her umbrella, her 
finger still between the leaves of the book of poems 
she had been reading when Densie had called her. 
She was in a dreamy, half-conscious mood, like one 
sitting in a painted boat upon a painted ocean. The 
sound of her companions’ voices fell pleasantly upon 


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A Change of Scene. 


357 


her ears, but she hardly noticed what they said, and 
rarely joined in the conversation. 

By and by Livy stopped rowing. 

“ It’s awful warm,” said he, taking off his hat and 
wiping his brow. “ I am perspiring at every single 
one of my two million three hundred and four 
thousand pores. I read once that that was the 
estimated number of the pores of the human body.” 

“ I guess you are like Mark Twain,” observed 
Densie. “ It makes you sick to ride backwards — 
and work.” 

“ We have come a pretty good distance, at any 
rate,” said Livy. Then he looked around behind 
him. “ See how much nearer that schooner is. Why, 
she looks like a yacht. I wonder where she is 
going. Over to Hadley Harbor, maybe. The fleet 
hasn’t gone out yet, has it ? ” 

“No,” answered Densie. “They’re to stay an- 
other day — so the Stafidard said. How I would 
like to have been on board one of them in the race 
yesterday ! I think you might have made your friend 
take us.” 

“ I have alreadv told you,” protested Livy, “ that I 
am not certain that the Curlew is with the fleet at all. 
And if she were, I don’t know Brandagee well 
enough to invite myself and all my friends into his 


358 The Story of Honor Bright. 

yacht. I was with him only one term at Exeter. 
Besides, it isn’t his yacht at all. It’s his father’s. 
You might have gone down in the Monohansett yes- 
terday, if you had wanted to see the race. She fol- 
lowed them over the whole course.” 

Then there was a pause in the conversation for a 
few moments. 

“ Ah ! ” cried Livy presently, “ did you feel that ?” 
He still had his hat off. “ I do believe it was a 
breath of air.” 

Densie dipped her finger in the water and held it 
up. 

“That is the way we do at sea,” she gravely ex- 
plained. But she could not feel any air. “ It was 
only a puff,” said she. 

“There it is again!” declared Livy. And this 
time they both felt it. “ I am going to put up the 
sail — if it is put-up-able. Sailing is a good deal 
easier than rowing.” 

So he drew in his oars, and pulling out the sail 
from under the seats he succeeded with some difficulty 
in stepping the mast and adjusting the sprit that ran 
up to the corner of the sail. Then he came and sat 
down in the stern-sheets, Densie moving up amid 
ships with Honor. 

There evidently was some air blowing, for the sail 


A Change of Scene. 


359 


filled as Livy pulled* the sheet aft and made it fast 
Livy did not profess to be much of a sailor ; but no 
great skill seemed required in the management of the 
present craft And beside's, it did not make any par- 
ticular difference which way they went The wind 
did not blow steadily at all, but still came in gentle 
puffs, frequent enough, however, to keep the Doat in 
motion. 

“ By the way. Honor,” spoke Livingston presently, 
“speaking of the Monohansett., she goes to Rocky 
Point and Newport Friday. We ought to get up a 
party and go. You’ve been talking all summer of a 
trip down Narragansett Bay.” 

“Yes,” put in Densie, “and it will be all the 
more interesting now as the scene of Angus’ adven- 
tures.” vShe paused a moment, and then added, “ I 
wonder what has become of — of Ruggles.” 

“Though lost to sight, to memory dear!” said 
Livy. “ We can never talk half an hour without 
Ruggles coming into the conversation. I wouldn’t 
wonder if we should run across him at some of these 
shore resorts, waiting on the tables or something. 
Lots of second-rate fellows do that in summer-time.” 

“ As for that,” observed Honor quietly, “ I have 
known of several college students doing it, and, 
though they were poor and had to work in summer to 


360 The Story of Ho 7 ior Bright. 

pay their expenses in winter, they were not ‘ second- 
rate fellows ’ at all. We met one last summer at the 
Winslow House who was leading his class. And as 
for Ruggles ” — Honor’s voice deepened, a little and 
her face kindled — “I think I ought to say that I be- 
lieve him to be not ‘second-rate’ in any respect, but 
^ first-rate^ in the best sense of the term.” 

“Well,” said Livy, “but what was it Mr. Lambert 
was saying in the depot the other morning — about 
the detectives being after him ? And what is all this 
mystery about Angus’ being carried off ? What has 
Ruggles run off for ? I believe there is something 
you don’t like to tell in the matter; and if the truth 
were known, Ruggles isn’t at all the saint you would 
have us think.” 

“ Since you so object to his name being brought 
into the conversation, suppose we drop the subject,” 
said Honor coldly. 

“ His ears must burn, wherever he is,” remarked 
Densie. 

At that instant a dark shadow fell ominously upon 
the boat and upon the water about it. They looked 
up quickly. One of- the clouds that nobody had 
noticed had climbed up and suddenly shut the sun 
from sight ; and others, black and fierce, were gath- 
ering all about. And then, before anybody could 


A Change of Scene. 


361 


speak, another puff of wind, stronger than any that 
had preceded it, struck the sail squarely and bent 
the boat to her gunnel. 

Honor jumped up from her seat. 

‘‘ The rope ! the rope ! ” cried she. “ Unfasten 
the rope ! Have you lost your head, Livy ! 

Livy put his hand to his head in a bewildered sort 
of way, as though not quite sure but that he might 
have lost it. And under different circumstances he 
might have answered that it had been “ snapped off.” 
But he had wit enough at this moment to realize that 
it was no time for a display of wit. He saw the 
danger too, and understood what Honor meant. 

He fumbled hurriedly at the sheet that had been 
made fast to a cleat close by him. But he was 
nervous and awkward, and it took him too long to 
undo the rope. There was a hoarse growl of thunder 
from behind the clouds over in the west ; and then 
there came another puff of wind, this time the fierce, 
angry breath of the squall itself. Instantly the sail 
bent down before it to the water’s surface ; and the 
next moment the boat was floating bottom upwards in 
the bay. 


CHAPTER XXII. 


ON BOARD THE CURLEW. 

F or a moment or two things certainly looked se- 
rious ; but it was nothing worse than a good 
wetting that happened to them after all. Nobody 
was hurt by the capsizing of the boat and luckily, no- 
body was in any way entangled in it as it turned. 
Livy, however inefficient he may have been before the 
disaster, behaved like a man immediately after it. 
And so did Honor too, for that matter. The latter 
was a confident swimmer, and when, coming to the 
surface and finding Livy close beside her, he moved 
to help her, she motioned him toward Densie, who had 
appeared a little further away and seemed to be in 
some trouble. And in less time than it has taken to 
write so much of this chapter, all three had regained 
the boat and were clinging to it. 

“ I am so glad Angus did not come with us ! ” was 
almost the first thing Honor said. She did not seem 
362 


On Board the Curlew. 


363 


to think of herself at all. And then, seeing that 
Densie looked pale and frightened, she sought to re- 
assure her. “ It is not so very bad, after all,” said 
she. “The boat certainly can’t upset again. And 
we can cling to it without difficulty. Why, it is just 
like being in bathing, for all the world.” And indeed 
it was a fact that the three of them had before this 
been in deep water with this very boat, turned bottom 
upwards as it was now. And there was as yet no 
trouble in clinging to it, though the wind was really 
blowing now and the water was far from smooth. 
The clouds were thick overhead too, and the lightning 
was darting here and there among them, accompanied 
by constant mutterings of thunder. 

“I believe it is going to rain,” observed Livy 
lugubriously. 

“And I have lost my umbrella,” cried Honor 
laughingly. She was determined to keep up their 
spirits if she could. “ We shall certainly get sopping 
wet.” 

Then all at once Livy raised himself out of the 
water as far as he could. 

“Hurrah! hurrah!” cried he. “Look there, will 
you ! They must have seen us when we went over. 
Halloo ! halloo ! ” And he waved his arm with all his 
might. 


364 The Story of Honor Bright 

The other two, looking quickly, saw with delight 
that the yacht which had sometime before attracted 
their attention was now hardly a quarter of a mile 
away and was coming down upon them rapidly, 
though under shortened sail. 

“ Oh dear ! ” murmured Densie characteristically. 
“ We are in a pretty condition to go on board a yacht. 
How we shall look with our dresses all sticking to 
us ! And my montagues are completely washed out.” 

At which Honor and Livy both laughed outright; 
and all three found themselves awaiting the nearer 
approach of the stranger in increasingly good spirits. 
After all, as Honor said again, the whole affair was 
really not more serious than going in bathing off the 
headland. The water was perfectly warm, and they 
all knew how to swim. It would be quite an adven- 
ture to tell of when they got on shore again. 

The yacht came flying down with a free wind ; and 
it was scarcely five minutes before she was close upon 
them. They could see a young man, apparently 
about Livy’s age, dressed in a white cap and yacht- 
ing suit, standing near the wheel and watching them. 
And there was a young lady close beside him. The 
former called out to them. 

“ Hold on a minute longer,” he shouted. “ Can 
you hold on ? ” 


SEASHORE AT N. — WAITING FOR THE TIDE. 









i. 

I 







On Board the Curle^v. 367 

‘^All right. There is no hurry,” Livy answered 
back. 

And then the yacht came up into the wind, and in 
a moment a boat, with two men in it and the young 
fellow in the white cap, was pulling swiftly toward 
them. 

“Well, well ! ” uttered Livy, all at once recognizing 
in the one at the helm an old acquaintance. “ If 
that isn’t Fred Brandagee!” 

And then, as presently the girls were lifted out of 
the water and saw the name Curleud’ on the caps 
of the men, and Livy shaking hands with the officer, 
they understood that the yacht which had so promptly 
come to their rescue was the very one of which they 
had been speaking a little while ago. 

It was natural enough that Densie should have 
felt some misgivings as to the figure they would make 
going on board the yacht. Livy, in his drenched 
garments, hatless and with dishevelled hair, looked 
pitiable enough ; but the two girls — as young ladies 
are sure to do under such circumstances — presented 
an even more wretched appearance. They passed it 
off as good-naturedly as possible, however, laughing 
and joking at each other. Young Brandagee was 
very polite and considerate ; and having secured the 
painter of the other boat, directed the men to pull as 


368 The Story of Honor Bright. 

• ^ 

rapidly as possible back to the yacht. His sister was 
on board the Curlew., he said, and they could be as 
well cared for there as though they were at home. 
And when, a minute after, they arrived at the ves- 
sel’s side, a bright and winning young lady received 
them with the utmost kindness, and at once took 
the two girls below that they might change their ap- 
parel and make themselves once more presentable. 
As for Livy, Brandagee himself took charge of him, 
placing his own state-room and extensive wardrobe at 
his service. 

It was not long before they all came together in 
the cabin again, the shipwrecked party now in the 
best of spirits and seemingly not a bit the worse for 
their mishap. Densie had borrowed a blue sailor- 
suit of Miss Brandagee which seemed to fit her per- 
fectly and was extremely becoming. And with the 
aid of a bottle of bandoline which she had discovered, 
she had been able to restore her “ montagues ” to 
something of their former perfection. Honor had 
accepted the use of a black silk dress which, since 
the sudden change in the weather, was found to be 
not too warm. 

They could now hear the rain falling heavily on the 
deck above, and the storm howling about them. It 
was quite dark in the cabin, and the lamps had been 


On Board the Curlew. 


369 


lighted. A table had been invitingly set, and Miss 
Brandagee insisted that they should at least drink 
some hot tea, to ensure their suffering no ill effects 
from their involuntary wetting. So they sat down 
around the table and enjoyed a very cosy little tea- 
drinking together. Honor and Livy were so seated 
that most of their talk was with Miss Brandagee, 
whom they found an exceedingly likeable young 
person. Young Brandagee found himself 'to a large 
extent appropriated by Miss Drew; but as that 
young lady was now at her very brightest and best, 
he considered his position anything but irksome. 

It seemed that the Curlew was with the fleet, and 
indeed had been in the race yesterday — and might 
have stood a fair chance of winning it, Fred 
Brandagee assured Densie, only that there was so 
little wind that the sloops had it all their own way. 
The yachts were still at New Bedford. Mr. and 
Mrs. Brandagee had gone on shore to stay at the 
hotel, and Fred himself had taken the Curlew out 
this afternoon on his own responsibility. Of course 
they had a skipper aboard. As soon as the storm 
was over — it bade fair not to last very long — they 

would run over to N and land the visitors. 

Just at present Captain Stillwater thought it best to 
keep pretty well off shore. 


370 The Story of Honor B?'ight, 

Honor urged that Miss Branclagee and her brother, 
go ashore with them and pay them a little visit at the 
hotel. They really must not part company at once. 
But Miss Brandagee said that the yachts were going 
out at sunrise to-morrow and they would have to be 
back before nine to-night, as her father and mother 
were coming off at that hour. The young lady’s 
brother seemed to have overheard this last statement 
" and spoke up quickly from his end of the table : 

‘‘You’re mistaken about that, Ruth,” said he; 
“ father said he shouldn’t come on board until 
to-morrow morning.” 

Miss Brandagee shook her head. “ I was there,” 
said she, “ and I am positive he said to-night. It isn’t 
likely they want to get up and come down to the 
dock at sunrise to-morrow morning.” 

“ But we are not obliged to go out so early just be- 
cause the rest do. I am sure that he said nine o’clock 
in the fnornmg. I was there too, you remember.” He 
spoke so earnestly that he might easily have been 
supposed to have a decided wish in the matter. 

“ Well,” returned his sister, “ we shall have to 
leave it to Tom. He took us on shore, and must have 
heard what was said.” Then she leaned forward 
and called up the companion-way to the skipper, who 
was at the wheel. “ Captain Stillwater, is Tom 


On Board the Curlew. 


371 


on deck? Please send him down here a moment.” 

The voice of the seaman was heard calling to 
somebody forward ; and a minute later one of the 
crew came down the cabin stairs. 

“ It was Tom that I wanted,” said Miss Brandagee, 
looking up and perceiving that the new-comer was 
somebody else. 

“Tom was busy overhauling a — overhauling the 
jib down-haul ; an’ so I came in his place,” explained 
the man. And then he added confidentially, “ I 
guess he’s a bit bashful about the ladies.” 

“ Well, you can go back and overhaul the jib 
down-haul yourself, and send Tom in his own place,” 
directed the young lady with a decision that showed 
that she was accustomed to being obeyed. 

So the man disappeared again. After which steps 
were presently heard once more, and then a second 
person appeared. By a sort of common instinct 
everybody looked up this time to see if it was 
“ Tom.” 

This second comer was a youth rather than a man 
grown. So much could be discerned as he came 
slowly down, though his face was not distinctly vis- 
ible. He was dressed in the ordinary, close-fitting 
sailor’s uniform, which set off his square, well-built 
figure to advantage. He came forward, cap in hand, 


372 The Story of Honor Bright. 

with an unwilling air that might well have been 
taken for diffidence. The next moment, as he came 
fairly into the light, everybody could recognize him 
fully. And everybody did. It was Thomas Rug- 
gles ! 

“ Jupiter ! ” ejaculated Livy, his surprise fairly 
getting the better of his politeness, though the ex- 
clamation was uttered half under-breath. As for our 
two heroines, whose surprise was of course also very 
great, Densie stared for a single instant, and then 
(I am afraid that she must allow me the word) gig- 
gled audibly ; while Honor, though her heart seemed 
to give a little leap, uttered not a sound. By a sort of 
impulse, however, she the next moment laid her hand 
on Livy’s arm and caught Densie’s eye, in time to 
prevent anything being said just then. And neither 
Miss Brandagee nor her brother noticed at all that 
the entrance of this member of the crew had occa- 
sioned any emotion. 

Ruggles on his part, showed no surprise whatever, 
nor indeed, now that he found that there was no 
avoiding the encounter, any confusion. He caught 
the look of surprised recognition on three of the 
faces, and observed and understood Honor’s sudden 
movement. He stood there quietly and respectfully, 
awaiting his orders. He seemed to understand his 


On Board the Curlew. 


373 


“place ” as a common sailor even better than he had 
come to know it as a coachman. 

“Tom,” said young Brandagee, “you were with us 
when we set father and mother ashore last night. 
Do you remember what he said about coming off 
again } ” 

“Yes, sir,” answered Ruggles. “He said they 
would come down at nine o’clock to-night, at the same 
wharf, and we were to send a boat for them.” 

Miss Brandagee clapped her hands. 

“Good, Tom,” cried she. “You always have 
things right, and that settles the matter.” Then she 
went on, turning to her company, “I should have 
been quite willing to have been wrong, though, for it 
would be pleasant to go on shore with you.” 

“ We can do so, anyway, for an hour or two,” de- 
clared her brother. “ There’ll be plenty of wind to- 
night and it is fair. And there is a moon too. We 
can run up in a hour easy enough. How is the 
weather now, Tom } ” 

“ It has stopped raining, and there’s blue sky over 
to the west’ard.” 

“ All right. Tell Captain Stillwater to run in, will 
you The wind is steady enough now, I think.” 

“ We’ve been running in for some time, sir. The 
shore isn’t an eighth of a mile away.” 



374 Story of Honor Bright, 

“ Is that so ! ” exclaimed the young man, and all the 
rest shared his surprise. Then he turned and looked 
at the clock, while Ruggles seized the opportunity to 
leave the cabin. “ It is only six o’clock now,” said he. 

We’ll go ashore for an hour or two, at any rate. 

What do you say. Sis ? ” This to his sister. 

“ I should like very much to go, if we can get 
back to New Bedford before nine,” said she. “If 
they came down and found us gone, they would be 
worried about us, after such a tempest.” 

“ Oh, we will get back by nine o’clock fast enough,” 
said her brother. And then they all went on deck. 

The sun was just breaking through the clouds in 
the west, and the sky was clearing rapidly. The wind 
was still blowing very fresh, but was new perfectly 
steady. The water about them seemed to have a 
bluer, brighter look after the rain, as sometimes 
woods and fields look greener and fresher. They 
were close in with the shore now, and a group of 
friends upon the beach seemed to have recognized 
them and were waving their handkerchiefs frantically. ■ 

Honor, coming on deck, had cast a single glance ' 

about her and taken in the whole attractive scene. 

But she had a purpose in mind at that moment which 
drove all other thoughts from her. She must see -ij 
and speak to Ruggles before she left the yacht. She ' 






On Board the Curlew. 


375 


looked anxiously forward, and saw him, apart by him- 
self, busy in clearing away the anchor chain. And 
with a determined step she made her way toward the 
bow of the vessel. 

Ruggles saw her coming, and a moment later she 
found that he had gone out on the bowsprit and was 
working away with tremendous energy at the stops on 
one of the jibs. She understood the action, and 
flushed a little as she saw it; but she was not to be 
thus deterred. 

She went straight on to the very heel of the bow- 
sprit and spoke to him. And of course he had noth- 
ing to do now but look up at her and hear what she 
had to say. 

“ I have wanted to see you very much since what 
you did in finding Angus,” she began. She spoke in 
a low tone, so that none but he should hear, and her 
voice was slightly tremulous. “ I wanted to beg your 
pardon for thinking of you as — as we all know now 
that you did not deserve. I wanted to thank you for 
finding Angus for us. You cannot think how grateful 
we all of us are ! ” 

She stopped speaking and stood with her eyes 
fixed appealingly upon him. But he on his part was 
looking down now, and knew only what she was 
saying. 


376 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


“ I jcertainly did not deserve the suspicions I was 
honored with,’’ said he, speaking in a cold, hard way 
that one could not but blame him for- but he was 
very proud and he had felt himself deeply wronged. 
And, moreover, he was angry just now that he had 
been discovered again, after having taken some 
pains to put himself out of the way. “ But I do not 
know that I deserve any thanks or gratitude. I only 
did what any decent fellow would have done.” 

The tone, so cold and indifferent, and the look 
with which he now raised his eyes and met her own, 
more than the words themselves, hardened Honor’s 
heart in sjDite of her. She felt a sort of indignation 
at being met in this way. It was very hard for her to 
go on in the face of it — for she was as proud as he, 
and not used to self-humiliation ; but she had some- 
thing more to say and she went on to say it. 

“Mr. Murdoch is very anxious — we all want very 
much — that you should come back. We know now 
— we have discovered — 

She paused again, a good deal embarrassed and 
not knowing how to express herself. And he, not 
understanding her at all, and not one bit softened, 
answered at once : 

“ I thank you. But I am very well off where I 


On Board the Curlew. 


377 


am. And it would be, as I said, quite impossible for 
me to go back. It is not to be thought of.” 

Then all at once the peremptory command of the 
skipper to “Stand by to let go that anchor for’rd 
there ” was heard. And Ruggles sprang up to make 
his way in board again. And poor Honor, realizing 
at once how impossible it was to say anything more 
now, turned away and walked aft again, with tears of 
anger and mortification in her eyes. 

A few minutes later the shipwrecked party were 
once more safe on terra firma. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


DENSIE S TACTICS, 


RRIVED at the hotel once more, Honor ran up 



stairs, thoroughly angry with herself and every- 
body else. To think of her having humbled herself 
before Ruggles as she had, and then to be treated in 
this way! She had sincerely begged his pardon for 
the injustice she had done him, and he had not even 
had the grace to say that it was granted. K gentleman 
always accepted an apology, she declared to herself 
with flashing eyes, especially if it came from a lady. 
Although for that matter, remembering well that 
evening in the library when Ruggles had turned and 
faced her with his question, she confessed to herself 
again that her offence was almost unpardonable. 
At least, she could see that it might seem so to him. 
But, apart from that, what had she done now? To- 
day fate had brought her once more face to face with 


378 


Densie's Tactics, 


379 


Ruggles, and given her the opportunity she had for 
the last three weeks been longing, for. And she had 
simply thrown the opportunity away. She had not 
said one word that would lead to a solution of the 
difficulty as to their real relation to each other. 
She had not even let him know that she was aware 
of his actual position. True, there had been really 
no time to speak as she would have liked. But she 
might at least have made some appointment with 
him, or extracted from him some promise that he 
would see her again or let her know where he might 
be found. Now, the yacht would sail again in an 
hour or two, and doubtless Ruggles would disappear 
once more ; and this time he would probably take 
even better care than before to leave no trace behind. 
How stupid she had been, not to have had her wits 
about her, and to let her anger get the better of her ! 
If she could only meet him face to face once more, 
she was certain she could arrange the matter this 
time. He should hear her ! But that was not pos- 
sible now. At any rate, she would write him a letter 
— tell him all that she knew, and that he must take 
back the name and the property, for she would no 
longer bear the one or touch a penny of the other. 
But this would not do, either. She knew him well 
enough now to be sure that anything she could say 


3^0 The Story of Honor Bright. 

to him on paper would make no difference. He 
would take no notice of it, and would just as surely 
go off still and leave things just as they were. Oh, if 
she could only see him once more ! She would then 
have it fairly out with him ; and he should not thus 
baffle and evade her. She would then tell him dis- 
tinctly that the property was his and that he must 
take it; and if he still persisted in behaving so obsti- 
nately and ridiculously, why, she could then throw 
the responsibility upon him., and free herself entirely 
of the affair. 

Thus our much-tried heroine ran on hotly to lier- 
self as she hurriedly changed her dress once more 
before going down to her guests. And the face that 
met her eyes as she took a last look in the glass was 
so flushed and disturbed that she was almost afraid 
to show herself. 

They had tea again all by themselves in one 
corner of the hotel dining-room. Indeed, most of the 
other people staying there had already been to 
supper. Mrs. Murdoch and Angus were now added 
to the company. Much of the conversation, nat- 
urally enough, was of the events of the afternoon. 
Mrs. Murdoch again and again expressed her thank- 
fulness at the fortunate escape of the party, and she 
could not say enough to show her appreciation of the 


Densie’s Tactics, 


381 

service the Curlew had been able to render in the 
matter. As for Angus, he seemed to think that if he 
had been on board the boat, the accident would 
never have happened. And he might just as well 
have been, too ; for the tadpoles had not turned into 
frogs after all. The fact of their having met Ruggles 
on board the yacht was not mentioned, Honor having 
privately requested Livy and Densie to say nothing 
about it just yet. 

After tea, while Mrs. Murdoch and Livy were talking 
with the Brandagees, Honor secured a moment’s talk 
apart with Densie. She quickly told her of her brief 
interview with Ruggles, and how she feared now that 
he would be lost sight of again, and nothing at all 
come of their having thus stumbled upon him. 

“ And now,” said she in real despair, “ what shall 
I do .> ” 

“ Do ? ” returned Densie practically, “ why, you must 
see him again ! There can’t be any great difficulty 
about that when he is down here in a yacht not a 
stone’s throw from the shore.” 

“ But how shall I see him ? ” cried Honor anx- 
iously. ‘‘ Miss Brandagee said at table that they 
must leave at half-past seven ; and it is after seven 
now. If once he gets away, I am perfectly certain he 
will not let himself be found again. He is ^eter- 


382 The Story of Honor Bright. 

mined to keep out of the way. If you could only 
have heard the way he spoke to-night ! ” 

“ And suppose you do see him again, are you sure 
you can alter his determination ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Honor decidedly. “ I am sure that I 
can.” 

“Very well, leave it all to me. I will arrange 
it.” 

And she did arrange it. Densie was a young 
woman of talent, in certain directions at least, it 
must be confessed. She was an admirable tactician. 
A few moments later she had young Brandagee out 
on the piazza all by himself. She knew that the 
Curlew could not well sail without him, and she 
meant to keep possession of him if she could. 

The two sat there on the steps and talked a few 
moments, and then Densie proposed a walk. 

“ Which way ? ” asked her companion. 

“Oh, any way. Over across the meadows yondci. 
I guess the grass isn’t very wet.” 

But Mr. Brandagee, although he had, I think it 
quite safe to say, pretty nearly lost his heart to this 
charming young lady, had still been able to retain 
possession of his head. He pulled out his watch 
and looked at it, and then shook his head. 

“ It won’t do,” said he rather sadly. “ I promised 


Densie's Tactics. 383 

Sis I’d leave here at half-past seven sure. And it’s 
quarter past now.” 

“ But why need you go just yet ? ” asked Densie. 
“Why not wait until by and by — until eleven or 
twelve o’clock ? There’ll be a moon almost all night, 
won’t there?” 

“Yes; and a breeze too, I reckon. But father 
is coming down at. nine o’clock; and if we are not 
there, he will have the whole fleet making sail and 
coming out to find us.” 

“Oh, that would be splendid!” cried Densie. “Do 
stay I ” And then she continued seriously, “ But 
maybe he did say nine o’clock to-morrow morning 
after all.” 

Her companion shook his head again. “No,” 
said he ; “ Sis and Tom both know that he didn’t. 
Indeed, I know it about as well as they do, myself. 
Only I wanted to have it the other way.” 

Then they both stood looking off toward the yacht, 
he with a somewhat melancholy expression, and she 
with an amused one, as she watched him closely. 

“Well,” murmured he at length with a loud-drawn 
sigh, 

“ ‘ My boat is on the shore 
And my bark is on the sea, 

And before I go, Tom Moore, 

I must say farewell to thee.” ’ 


384 The Story of Hofior Bright, 

“Oh, how delightful !” exclaimed Densie. “Do say 
it again ! I do w love to have people quote poetry 
to me!” 

“I haven’t time,” answered young Branda^ee 
looking at his watch again. However much he 
might feel like saying silly things, he did not feel like 
being laughed at. 

“ I don’t believe you care to stay, really,” pouted 
Densie. 

“ I do, though ! ” he declared with great earnest- 
ness. 

“ I’ll get up an impromptu hop for you if you’ll 
stay.” 

“I would if I could. Indeed, I would.” 

“We have elegant impromptu hops here. And 
I’ll dance with you every time — no, every other 
time.” 

“ I would if I could,” repeated the poor young 
man. 

“ Would you if you could get word to your father?” 

“Yes. That is, if I could speak to him directly 
and get his answer — right away, I mean.” 

“ Would you honestly ? Upon your honor ? ” 

“ Yes, I certainly would. But what is the use of 
talking ! Of course that is not possible.” 

“Just come with me a moment,” said Densie 






Densie*s Tactics. 3S5 

triiimjDhantly. “ And remember you nave prom- 
ised.’’ 

She led the way straight into the office, and tak- 
ing him across the room, pointed to a telephone. 

“ There ! ” said she magnificently ; and she struck 
the bell. 

Young Brandagee, who was perfectly familiar 
with the instrument, at once prepared to enter into 
conversation with it. 

“ Well/” came sharply to his ears in answer to 
Densie’s ring. 

“ Connect the N Hotel with the P House,” 

said he. 

There was almost a minute’s silence, and then 
came the answer: 

Can't get them.” 

“ Nonsense ! ” exclaimed Densie, who was standing 
close by and could hear these words perfectly well. 
“ Give it to me ! We will see if they can’t get them.” 
And she rang the bell fiercely again, and then a third 
time. 

“ Weill” came the answer at length. Who's 
there 1 ” 

“ / am here — Miss Densie Drew ! I want you to 

connect this place with the. P House, and at 

once too, or I’ll know the reason why ! ” 


3S6 The Story of Honor Bright. 

This seemed to have the desired effect, for they in 
a moment got word from the P House. 

“ Is Mr. Brandagee in — or Mrs. Brandagee } ” 
inquired Densie. 

“ No. They went away this afternoon. Somebody 
came for them in a carriage."' 

‘‘ Oh, dear ! ” said Densie to her companion, 
“ what shall we * do now ? Where can they be ? 
Have you any idea ? ” 

“ I don’t know. I’m sure, unless they’re up at Mr. 
A ’s, on County street. Try there.” 

So Densie peremptorily called back the clerk at 
the central office, and was at once put in communi- 
cation with Mr. A ’s on County street; and to the 

great delight of them both, Mr. and Mrs. Brandagee 
were found to be there, and the former was called to 
the telephone. 

“ Hadn’t you better let me take it now?” suggested 
Densie’s companion. 

“No,” said she decidedly. “ When I want a thing 
well done, I always do it myself.” Then she called 
through the telephone to know if that was Mr. 
Brandagee. 

“ Vesf came the response at once. 

Densie assumed a half-tragic tone as she now 
poured her request by means of the wondrous little 


Densie's Tactics. 


387 


machine into the very ear of Mr. Brandagee himself. 

“ Some young people — two young ladies and a 
young man — were out in a boat this . afternoon and 
were upset by the squall and nearly drowned. I am 
one of the young ladies. The Curlew picked us up, 
and brought us in here. We want your son and 
daughter to stay here to-night until after a hop given 
in their honor. They promise to be back by twelve 
or one o’clock at the furthest. There’s a moon and 
plenty of wind. Can they stay ? We shall be ever 
so much obliged if you will let them.” 

Then came the answer: 

'■‘‘Bless my soul ! Of course they can stay ! Do you 
say that you are one of the young ladies ? Well, be sure 
you dance as hard as you can all the evening. It will 
prevent your taking cold after your wetting. Of course 
they can stay ! Mrs. Brandagee and I were once young 
ourselves I ^ 

“There!” exclaimed Densie with great self-satis- 
faction, as she turned away from the instrument. 
“ Wasn’t that pretty well done ? ” 

“Indeed it was!” assented her companion with 
real admiration. “ I’ll go and tell Sis about it at 
once. Or — hold on; I’ll write a note to Captain 
Stillwater first and send it back by the boat.” 

So he went around to the office desk and wrote a 


388 The Story of Honor Bright. 

note to the skipper, telling him of the change of plan. 
As he was about to fold it, Densie asked him 
suddenly if she might add a postscript to it. 

“ Of course, if you want to,” was the reply. 

“Well — ox you write it as I dictate. Write this, 
now — word for word, as I say it.” Then she dictated 
slowly, and he, in great wonder, wrote down the 
words : 

“ Send Miss Braiidagee' s waterproof ashore at 07 ice. 
(Your sister has a waterproof, hasn’t shei*) Send it 
by Tom. Tell him to come up to the hotel with it., and he 
will find the lady all alone by herself at the south end of 
the hotel piazza. Be sure that you send Tom, but do?td 
let him know I told you to send himl'‘ 

Then, after having in high glee gone and informed 
his sister of what their father had said, young Bran- 
dagee went down to the boat to send his letter off, 
while Densie proceeded to get together the young 
people about the house and to make arrangements 
for the hop. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


VICTOR OR Vanquished ? 

TUST after eight o’clock this same evening, Ruggles 
^ was walking back and forth across the forward deck 
of the Curlew as steadily and unwearily as though he 
were entered for a pedestrian contest against time. 
One might have imagined that he was moodily think- 
ing over the events of the afternoon. But in point of 
fact it was something very different that was in his 
mind. He was repeating to himself, over and over 
again, the list of Greek prepositions that governed 
the ablative. Ruggles had shipped on board the 
yacht because such a berth would give him a chance 
for study. And he did not mean to waste one 
moment of time between now and the middle of Sep- 
tember. 

He was to be interrupted for a while to-night, how- 
ever, for presently the voice of the skipper summoned 
him aft. 


389 


390 


The Story oj Ho7ior Bright. 


“ You’re to go ashore and take this to Miss Bran- 
dagee,” said he. “ Though what she wants of a 
waterproof such a night as this, I’m blessed if I 
know. It seems we’re not going back to town just yet.” 

“ Can’t Andrews take it ? ” asked Ruggles. “ Or 
one of the other men } ” 

“Andrews has just been ashore for an hour or 
more; and I told him he might turn in. The other 
men are all below already, aren’t they ? No; I guess 
you had better go.” 

“ Where shall I find Miss Brandagee ? Shall I 
leave it at the hotel ? ” 

“ Yes. She says she’ll be waiting for you on the 
hotel piazza. Go way out to the south end and you’ll 
find her there. It’s some woman’s whim. I’ll be 
bound.” This last in an undertone, as Ruggles took 
the bundle and turned away. 

Our hero got into the boat that lay alongside, and 
sculled himself rapidly ashore. Then, less in haste 
as he drew nearer his destination, he walked up the 
path toward the hotel, which could be plainly distin- 
guished, its lower windows brilliantly lighted. As he 
approached still nearer, he heard the sound of 
laughter and music and saw that dancing was going 
on within. And he thought of another evening, 
scarcely a month ago, when from the same outer 


Victor or Vanquished t 391 

darkness he had caught sounds and glimpses of just 
such a scene. 

He went up the steps, and turning to the left, 
walked along past the open windows toward the south 
end of the piazza, as he had been directed. The piazza 
ran on a quite a distance beyond the rooms where 
the lights and dancing were ; and at the extreme end, 
all alone by herself, he saw that a young lady was sit- 
ting. She was leaning upon the piazza railing, look- 
ing off toward the moonlit bay and apparently enjoy- 
ing to the full the wondrous beauty of the night. 
She did not heed his approach until he halted close 
beside her and held out his package. Then she 
turned and looked up at him ; and he saw that it was 
not Miss Brandagee, but Honor Bright. 

“I beg pardon,” he said. “I was told I should 
find Miss Brandagee here.” And he was for turning 
away again. 

She started up and confronted him, half putting 
out her hand to stop him. 

“ Wait/'' she said in her quick, imperious way. 
And then, conscious of how much depended upon his 
remaining, and afraid that she had spoken too sharply, 
she added, more gently : 

“ I beg of you not to go away just yet. There is 
something that I must say to you. It is rude and un- 


392 


The Story of Honor Bright, 


gentlemanly in you to act in this way when I try to 
say it. It is not fair.” She spoke bitterly and be- 
seechingly at once. It was hard to have to humble 
herself in this way; and yet she was so afraid he 
would refuse to listen. 

Her words stung him a little, and he said some- 
what more than he meant to in reply. 

“I should be sorry to do anything that was rude 
and ungentlemanly. But, Miss Bright,” — he raised 
his head jDroudly, — “I was and am your equal, and 
there were some things that were hard to bear.” 

“ I know it,” cried she eagerly. “ I know it — 
know it all now as I did not know it then. We found 
it all out the day after you were gone — your name 
and who you really were. We have been searching 
for you ever since — I have been wishing to see you 
ever since, that I might tell you of this, and say to you 
how glad I was that you were alive after all, and to 
give you back what was yours. You are a gentleman. 
Then, believe that I am a lady^ and that I am not 
capable of keeping for one moment the name and 
the money that are rightfully yours.” 

She stopped speaking and stood watching him 
tremblingly expectant. It was said at last, the thing 
she had so had it on her mind to say. What would 
be say to it in reply 1 


Victor or Vanquished t 


393 


But he did not say anything for a moment. There 
was no misunderstanding her words ; but what she 
said was entirely unexpected to him and he had 
to wait and realize it. He was surprised of course, 
greatly surprised. But that soon passed. He was 
one who got over his surprises pretty quickly. His 
disappointment and chagrin at finding his obstinately 
cherished secret known, was very much greater than 
his wonder. It was too bad, after all he had done to 
conceal it ! Yet this feeling quickly passed away 
too ; and, strange perhaps to say, there was left in 
his mind a certain sense of relief and joy, and a 
firmer resolve than ever to carry out his purpose 
as to the property. There had been one single point 
in his scheme that had troubled him all through. 
He had sometimes been unable quite to feel that 
Honor Bright was worthy of the sacrifice he meant to 
make for her. Her words to him now had suddenly *• 
removed that difficulty completely. She was ready 
to make for him some such sacrifice as he would 
have made for her. At least, ^e had just shown 
him that she would gladly give up to him the wealth 
that she had com.e to regard as her own and which 
she could not but value highly. The fact made 
perfect the dream which he had come to have so 
at heart. Even further than ever was he now from 


394 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


any thought of relinquishing that dream. And for 
any additional obstacles that her knowledge of his 
real position seemed to bring, he at once set about 
overcoming tnem. 

“ You say you know my name ” he repeated at 
length, without meaning anything more than to gain 
a little time. 

‘‘Yes; I know that you, and not I, have a right to 
the name of Honor Bright. And, of course, the 
estate and the name go together. I am so glad that 
you came back in time ! though, of course, that 
could have made no difference. I should have given 
it up to you had you come back twenty years hence.” 

He stood a moment trying to think how he should 
put best what he had to say. The statement of 
his main proposition was very simple, though, and he 
made it at once with mathematical directness. 

“ Miss Bright,” said he soberly, “ the money is yours 
and you wijl have to keep it.” 

She was not unprepared for this, and her answer 
was immediate : 

“Mr. Bright, the money is yours and you must 
take it.” 

Her eyes met his as fairly and unflinchingly as 
her words had met his own. He realized that he 
had some hard work before him. It was to be an 


Victor or Vanquisheiit 


395 


out-and-out battle between them, and the stronger 
nature would prevail. Perhaps it was ominous of 
the final result that, as they thus stood and looked at 
eadi other, he was able to endure the silence longest. 

“ It seems to me a very simple matter,” Honor 
presently went on, a little nervously. “ I was to in- 
herit the estate on my eighteenth birthday, provided 
you did not come back before that.” 

“ I have not come back,” said Ruggles dogmati- 
cally, “ and I do not mean to come back.” 

“ I don’t know what you can mean by that,” ex- 
claimed Honor impatiently. “ You are here now, 
are you not ? ” 

“ Yes ; but I do not claim to be Honor Bright. It 
is you, and not I, who say that.” 

“ Do you deny it 1 ” 

“ I do not acknowledge it.” 

“ It will be perfectly easy to prove it, at any rate,” 
said Honor positively. She had thought it all over 
several times, and, woman-like, her own logic seemed 
to her quite convincing. 

How ? ” asked Ruggles. 

“ Well, you had a book with you when you came 
to Hollownook, with the name Honor Bright written 
in it. I saw it accidentally.” The last sentence she 
added hastily, blushing a little. 


396 The Story of Honor Bright. 

“That would hardly prove it,” observed Ruggles, 
carelessly. 

‘‘ No ; but the handwriting was clearly the same 
as your signature in an album of Densie’s that you 
wrote in once, when she used to know you.” 

Ah ! ” said Ruggles. 

“ And then there are the letters on your wrist.” 

“Would you propose bringing them into court, 
too? ” inquired he ironically. “You and Miss Drew 
seem to be as skilful in these matters as — as Mr. 
Clewer.” 

“ At any rate,” said Honor desperately, “ I have 
no doubt there are plenty of people who used to 
know you and could identify you now.” 

“ Miss Drew, for example,” suggested Ruggles. 

“ No ; but Mr. Lambert would know you the mo- 
ment he saw you. He said he should.” 

“ Then I shall take good care that Mr. Lambert 
does not see me.” 

“ At any rate,” said Honor again, “ whether it can 
be proved or not, I know it, and I solemnly declare 
that under no circumstances will I take one penny of 
the money, or use it in any way.” 

“ You may take it and use it, or not, just as you 
please,” said Ruggles coolly, “ but it will be yours 
just the same. I understand the matter perfectly, I 





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J PROMISE,” SAID HONOR 


397 



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Victor or Vanquished ? 


399 


think. The law makes it yours the third clay of 
September, unless I appear before that time. I have 
not appeared, and I shall not. The property will, in 
spite of you, stand in your name and be yours by 
law. And I really do not see how you can get rid of 
it — unless you give it away, or throw it into the 
river.^’ 

“Very well, I will give it away, or throw it into the 
river.” 

“Very well, that is no concern of mine that I know 
of.” 

“This is all nonsense,” cried Honor pettishly. 

“Then suppose we talk sense,” was the cool re- 
joinder. 

“You know as well as I do,” said Honor, “that 
Mr. Bright always meant his estate to go to you.” 

“ Then why did he leave it to you ? ” returned 
Ruggles. 

“ Have you any doubt how he would feel about it 
this minute if he were here? Would not he give it to 
you?” 

“No,” said Ruggles, “he would not. At least, if 
he did, he would do a mighty unfair thing. If I had 
never been away at all and he had given me the 
property, it would have been all right. But I have 
been away, and you have supposed yourself the heir 


400 


The Story of Honor Bright, 


all this time and had the use of the income. And I 
say it would be an outrageous thing in me now to 
take it away from you! I should feel as if I was 
stealing it! I went off and gave it up and didn’t 
send any word of myself. I deserve to lose it, and 
why not let me losf it ? Besides, I do?i't want it ! 
Why, look at me ! He straightened himself uncon- 
sciously and held out his big, strong hands. — “/ 
don’t need any money! I can get my living in a 
hundred ways, as easy as not. I would rather earn 
my own living. If I had all that property, it would 
cramp me and spoil me. Maybe I should get to be 
just such a baby as Livingston Mauran.” This was 
really a little hard on our friend Livy; but Ruggles 
was talking very fast and earnestly. 

“ And do you think I cannot get along without the 
money?” demanded Honor proudly. 

“No; but I leave it to your common sense if it is 
not better for you to have it than for me. You are a 
woman and I am a man. You have always been 
used to luxury and wealth, while I have been knocked 
about in the roughest possible way for the last three 
years. You have a right to be rich, in the nature of 
things; while riches would be a perfect nuisance to 
me. I tell you plainly. Miss Bright, I won’t have ’em 
^//yway! Neither you nor anybody else shall force 


Victor or Vatiquished t 401 

them on me. I have laid out my future on my own 
plan, and I propose to live it according to that plan. 
And I say to you again, as to my uncle’s property, 
that I shall never take it!” 

“ But you must see that / cannot take it either, 
under such circumstances,” said Honor in distressed 
perplexity. She saw with perfect certainty now that 
he would never yield, though she had by no means 
gotten so far as to be willing to )deld herself. 

“Yes, you can,” declared he. “Of course, you 
can 1 Somehodiy must take it, and it is perfect non- 
sense to talk about throwing it away. That would 
be carrying out my uncle’s wishes with a vengeance. 
And more than all that, you have got to take it, 
Honor Bright 1 At least, I have made up my mind 
to just this. And I am sincere in what I say, just so 
truly as I stand here I You must either promise me 
distinctly, to-night, that you will do as I say, or I will 
start for the West again to-morrow morning, and 
never show myself in this part of the country again so 
long as I live. I will do it, honestly I And the 
money may go to Texas ! You see how it is. It will 
only make matters worse for both of us if you refuse. 
I am quite resolved.” 

“ But cannot something be done better than this ? 
Can’t we compromise it in some way ? ” Honor was 


402 The Story of Honor Bright. 

not really aware, even yet, that she meant to yield. 
But her words were virtually a confession of defeat. 
He who proposes a compromise will presently come 
to unconditional surrender. “ Why can’t we divide it 
in some way? I might take part and you the rest.” 

Ruggles shook his head impatiently. 

“ I will not take a single picayune,” said he. 
“ And — excuse me, but I must not stay here any 
longer. Will you give me the promise, or shall I go 
back West where I came from ? I assure you, I don’t 
want to do it. But I will do it, upon my word and 
honor, if it is only because I have said that I would. 
Do you promise ? ” 

Honor hesitated still another moment. But it was 
only now because she hated to say the word that 
acknowledged her defeat. She was defeated, com- 
pletely — she who had met him there with no thought 
that it was possible for her to do this thing, and con- 
fident of her power to bend his will to hers. But 
strong as she had felt herself to be, she had met one 
now who was stronger; and she knew herself to be 
conquered. She hesitated a single moment longer, 
because it was so hard for her to say the word. Then 
she said it, faintly, but quite distinctly and truly : 

“ I promise.” 

She sank down into the chair again and leaned 


Victor or Vanquished t 


403 

forward upon the railing, looking away from him 
down the hillside and out toward the sea. And he 
stood in silence beside her, reluctant just yet to go, 
but not knowing why he should stay. The matter 
that had brought them together was settled at last. 
He had her promise that it should be as he had said. 
Was that the end of it all ? It was far from being 
what he on his part wished ; but he felt at this 
moment, waiting there in the silence and the night, 
that if anything more was ever to pass between them 
the first farther word must come from her. Victor in 
this struggle between them though he had been, he 
felt now that unless she chose to open her lips again, 
he must in another moment turn away without a 
word, and that this would be the end of all acquaint- 
ance and intercourse between them. 

Perhaps too she felt something of this, for she 
presently did look up and speak. 

“And since you are not going West again, what 
will you do ? ” she asked, in a voice as natural as she 
could make it, though it betrayed no little anxiety. 

He bent toward her as he answered. He spoke 
eagerly and rapidly : 

“I will tell you,” said he. “You have known of 
self-made men. I would like to be such a one. I 
mean to work and study and educate myself and 


404 


The Story of Honor Bright. 


make of myself something that is worth the being. I 
think I shall succeed. And if I do — by and by 1 
would like to come to you and know you, when I 
have won a name and fortune of my own. And then 
— shall I say it — perhaps — perhaps the money and 
the name may go exactly as my uncle would have had 
it after all, and yet neither of us give it up. 1 — I 
could not go away without saying this much. Miss 
Bright. I do not ask a single word in answer. I 
only ask you to shake hands with me and say good-by.” 

He held out his hand ; and hers was laid within it. 
Then, quite forgetful of Miss Brandagee’s waterproof, 
which had all this while lain neglected on the piazza 
floor, he turned abruptly and walked away. 

And a long, long while Honor sat there by the 
railing, looking out upon the dark hillside and 
the moon-lit bay, with the yacht anchored off the 
shore and the little boat that pulled swiftly out to it 
and was soon lost in its shadow. Perhaps, as she sat 
and gazed dreamily upon the beautiful scene, she saw 
in fancy something more and further than can be 
written here of the story of Honor Bright. If 
so, I am sure they were pleasant visions that were 
hers, for the moon, shining down so brightly upon 
her fair face, showed it lit up by a quiet, happy 
smile. 


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LIGHT ON THE DARK RIVER; or. Memorials of Mrs. H. 

A. Hamlin, and her Mission Work in Turkey. By Mrs. 
Margaret IV. Lawrence. lamo. Cloth. Steel plate i 50 

NOBLE LIFE (A) ; Hints for Living, Rev . O . A . Kings- 
bury. New edition. Large i6mo. Cloth i 25 

TORN AND MENDED. By Wnt. F. Round. i6mo. Cloth, i 00 



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Bibles, Albums, Juvenile & Holiday Books. 


' “At No. 32 Franklin Street, Boston, we enter D. Loth- 
rop & Co.’s publishing house, on the corner of Hawley 
Street. Their salesroom is a large one, measuring 40x120 
feet, high studded, and lighted as it is upon three sides is 
peculiarly pleasant and admirably adapted to the comfort 
and convenience of book-lovers. Besides this room, Lothrop 
& Co. occupy two floors above, respectively for binding and 
composition. The extent of their transactions is something 
wonderful, and we echo the exclamation of the good man of 
Uz, “ Of the making of many books there is no end,” 
when we are told that this one house alone has a list of i)ub- 
lications numbering nine hundred volumes, makes every 
year more than half a million books, and will issue this fall 
a hundred entirely new works. The Arm has many specialties, 
among which may be mentioned albums, of which they are 
the largest importers in New England ; miscellaneous books 
for home reading, all of which have undergone the scrutiny 
of an eminent corps of readers, whose duty it is to see that 
r.rShing hurtful or vapid shall emei-ge from the house; i-elig- 
works, Bibles, Prayer Books, Hymnals, etc., together 
vvith Christmas, Sunday-school and day award cards, station- 
ary, etc. Every one, of course, knows that this is the nest- 
*ng-placeof Wide Awake andBABYLAND, though everyone 
may not know that it is also the birthplace of more juvenile, 
holiday and gift books than are published by any other sin- 
gle concern in Boston .” — Boston Transcript. 


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Messrs. D. Lotiirop & Co., Boston: 

I have been asked by a friend to write a short sketch of 
niy sister, the author of the poem, “ The Ninety and Nine,” 
which has been so beautifully illustrated and brought out 
in its present form. A very quiet, shy little child, shrinking 
from notice, absorbed in books, and wishing no other com- 
panions out of the circle of her home, loving each member of 
it dearly, but in silence and with little demonstration ; the 
loss of both parents at an early age taught her sorrow. As 
she grew up she was recognized as the cleverest of the fam- 
ily ; the first in her classes, she was a favorite pupil with her 
teachers. Her love of poetry was a passion. 

Overcoming her shyness, she developed into a woman 
whose bright fancy and sparkling conversation made her the 
delight of her friends. 

Gathering little forlorn children, both on week days and on 
Sundays, she taught them for this life and the life to come. 

Among the sick and the sorrowful, she won the name 
of “My Sunbeam;” “the purest mind I ever knew,” said 
one ; yet helping with strong compassion to raise and restore 
the fallen and those who were out of the way, using all the 
power of her eloquent words to convince the skeptical, doing 
all heartily, and for the Master she honored and loved. ^ 

Such was Elizabeth C. Clephane during the days of a life 
which, when it ended, took unspeakable brightness out of 
the home she left, and filled the place that knew her no more 
with mourning-. 

“ The Ninety and Nine” was written for a friend who 
edited “ The Children’s Hour.” It was copied into various 
publications, but it was comparatively little noticed until Mr. 
Sankey discovered the words accidentally, in a religious news- 
paper, while riding on the train between Glasgow and Edin- 
burgh, and, uniting them to his own talent, so rendered them 
that they have become perhaps the most widely known sacred 
song which he sings. It is with deep gratitude to him that 
the friends of the author can say, “She being dead, yet 
speaketh.” 

A. M. Clephane, 

Bridgend House, Melrose, Scotland. 


NEW PUBLICATIONS. 


Lances of Lynwood. A Story of the Days of Chivalry 
ill England. By Miss C. M. Yonge. Illustrated. Boston: 
D. Lothrop & Co. Price $1.25. This tale of old feudal 
times will be read with delight by all adventure-loving boys. 
The incidents recorded are supposed to have occurred in the 
time of Edward III. The story of the siege of the Chateau- 
Narbelle and its gallant defense, and the descriptions of 
the campaign against the Spaniards will stir the blood in 
the veins of many a young reader. The author has drawn 
freely from that treasure house of old English history, 
Froissart’s Chronicles, as well as from Breton tradition, so 
that 'The Lances of Lynwood may be considered in the light 
of historv as well as romance. 

The Little Duke. Richard the Fearless. By Miss C. 

^M. Yonge. Illustrated. Boston : D. Lothrop & Co. Price 
$1.25. Unlike the Prince and the Page and The Lances of 
Lynioood, the scene of this story is laid outside of England 
in Normandy. Like those, however, it deals with historical 
characters of a far away time, and presents a series of pic- 
tures of equal vividness and fascination. The main figure of 
the story, “ the little Duke,” was Richard, the son of Duke 
William of Normandy, and the time is about the middle of the 
tenth century, when Louis IV. was King of France and the 
Saxon King Edred ruled in England. The volume forms 
one of the issues in Miss Yonge’s historical series, and is 
bound in uniform style with the others. 


J\1H 


SiiAKSPEARE Birthday Textbook. Illustrated. Bos- 
ton: D. Lothrop & Co. Price, plain cloth 75 cents; gilt 90 
cents; half calf $2.00. This exquisite iittle birthday vol. 
nine cannot help meeting with immediate and universa- 
favor. The right hand pages contain diary blanks for every 
day in the year, and the opposite pages contain choice 
passages from the great poet, one for each day. There is an il 
u^i^te\lQ[.[[^ and frontispiece, and 12 full page illustrations 










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